


Love Things

by ScarletteStar1



Series: Jane and Sylvie [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Fantasy, Infertility, Infidelity, Lesbian Erotica, Lesbian Sex, Lesbian oral sex, Masturbation, Miscarriage, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Pining, Praise Kink, Scissoring, Sexual Confusion, Tribbing, lesbian loss of virginity, sapphic tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 25,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27901990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: Sylvie is bright, young, and helplessly infatuated with her boss Jane.Jane is a brilliant, driven, and well-known psychiatrist who has travelled the world lecturing on complex trauma. She is married and much older than her assistant, Sylvie.Love between them shouldn't make sense, and it shouldn't stand a chance.But where the heart is involved, nothing is ever quite what it should be.
Series: Jane and Sylvie [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050728
Comments: 156
Kudos: 77





	1. Moments

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a random collection of one shots, but then grew to be an actual story, thanks to the wonderful love and encouragement of people who showed up and read and enjoyed my little tales. I'm so grateful for you.

It happened slowly at first in lots of little moments, moments they might not have noticed, moments they might have missed completely. And then it was there, all of a sudden, throbbing in their marrow like it had always been a part of them, a fiber of their being, a molecule of their makeup without which they’d be useless. 

A nonchalant cup of tea became a vessel wherein secrets were steeped and savored. Common compliments became poetic measures by which they crafted vows. Casual touch seared complex patterns into their skin. It wasn’t meant to be; it simply became. 

Love appeared so hard and fast they barely knew what it was, let alone what to do with it.

Sylvie said it first, offhandedly, one night when they were leaving the office. Jane was going away to a conference for a week. “I’m going to miss you too much,” Sylvie sulked, but she was playful about it. “I can’t believe you aren’t taking me with you.”

“No one is taking their assistants,” Jane said. She was flipping through files Sylvie had loaded on her laptop. “Besides you’d be bored.”

“I wouldn’t,” Sylvie insisted. “Watching you work is endlessly entertaining. Why do you think I stay here?” 

Jane looked up and arched her brows. “Maybe it’s because no other boss would tolerate your sense of humor?” 

“I joke because I love,” Sylvie said. Even though it was past six in the evening and they were both getting ready to leave, she’d applied fresh lipstick and brushed her hair. Jane didn’t notice, or if she did, she didn’t say anything. Jane also didn't seem to notice she'd said she loved her, albeit flippantly and within the guise of a bad joke. 

“Mmmh,” Jane sighed as she tossed her laptop and notebooks into her bag. She didn’t seem to be paying attention to Sylvie at all. She put her coat over her arm, hoisted her bag and took another look around her office. “Is the car here?” 

“Yeah, it’s downstairs,” Sylvie said softly. “Have fun.”

“You know these things are never fun. Behave yourself and I’ll see you in a week,” Jane smiled and her gray-green eyes sparkled. It was a real smile. Sylvie could tell because all the delicate lines on the side of Jane’s eyes stretched up toward her temple. Sylvie’s stomach did a flip. She looked down at her feet. “Oh, don’t look so glum,” Jane scoffed. It wasn’t unusual for her to embrace Sylvie, especially if they were going to be apart for a few days. After all, they’d become friendly. So, it was not unusual in the least when Jane stepped forward and put her arms around her young assistant. What was unusual about this particular embrace was the way their cheeks brushed together, the lingering glow it left throughout Sylvie’s entire body, and the way in which Jane sighed, “Oh you smell so good,” as she pulled away again. And then, as she drifted out the door and away from Sylvie, she called over her shoulder, “Love you too!” 

And that was the moment on which they both looked back and said, “That one, that was the one after which nothing was ever the same.”


	2. Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a glimpse into the Jane's mind.

Walking through the airport, Jane thought about the things that made her life hers.

It was a habit she had, a grounding technique she employed when she landed in a strange place, sort of like flipping through a mental catalogue of who she really was.

She thought about her plants and hoped the housekeeper remembered to water them properly. She thought about her dog in the kennel and chased herself in circles of guilt for traveling so much. Calculating time differences, she thought about the call she’d have (or try to have) later on with Harold. She thought about her barren womb and the huge house on the hill that never heard the laughter of children. She thought about what kind of roast she’d like to cook for Sunday next when she was home (and maybe she’d invite Maribeth and Sal for supper).She thought about walking a long ways on a long beach and picking up perfectly round rocks to put in colorful, antique vases back at home.

Her shoes were making her feet sore. She couldn’t get to the hotel fast enough. No doubt Sylvie booked her a room with a massive bathtub despite the fact Jane told her to do something modest. The thought made her smile. In the cab, she toed off her shoes and flexed her feet, but she still smiled at the thought of Sylvie scrolling through hotel rooms and settling on the one that would make Jane most comfortable.

While settling her luggage and tipping the bellhop, her phone buzzed with a text.

_Don’t forget dinner w Piter Katz at 7. Hope the room is ok._

_Thanks. Room is grand. A little extravagant, no?_

_Nothing but the best!_ Sylvie texted back with a series of smiley faces.

As it happened, Piter wound up cancelling their dinner plans. Jane hadn’t been particularly excited about meeting with him, but Sylvie had gone to the trouble of booking the dinner so Jane wouldn’t have to eat alone on her first night. The last thing she wanted to do was go across town to the main hotel being used for the conference and mingle with the other participants at the big reception. Those dog and pony shows were never her scene, which was why she typically had Sylvie book her into a separate hotel some distance from the actual conference.

 _Maybe I should start bringing Sylvie to these things,_ she thought. _At least if my dinner companion canceled, I won’t eat alone._

She drank a martini at the hotel bar and ordered a cheese board. The bartender was overly keen on sharing every detail about the selection of cheeses and artisanal olives. Normally Jane would have been more indulgent with her attention, but she found herself distracted. She was thinking about the next day’s schedule and about the curtains she’d ordered for her dining room. She was second guessing the cyan blue. To otherwise occupy the poor bartender, she ordered a second martini.

When her cheese plate came, she snapped a picture of it and sent it to Sylvie. She texted that Piter had canceled and Sylvie would not believe the twenty minute dissertation Jane just got on the cheese in the pic.

_Nice!_

Jane stared at the response. It wasn’t like Sylvie to send a single syllable response, especially when Jane had sent not only a photo, but a witty story along with it. She finished her drink and had the food boxed up to take to her room. All the way up in the elevator, she perseverated about Sylvie’s text. Jane fiddled with the buttons on her jacket and then played with her hair. It wasn’t like her to be this distracted. She made a mental note to make an appointment with her OBGYN to have bloodwork done again. At forty seven, it was completely logical that the onset of peri-menopausal symptoms could be causing her lack of focus and strange thought processes.

Back in her room, Jane drew a bath and changed into a robe. She thought about next week’s schedule and remembered she’d be seeing patients in the satellite office. Without even realizing what she was doing, she picked up her phone and called Sylvie.

“Hey Boss,” the warm, slightly raspy voice greeted her on the second ring.

“Syl, hello.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. I was just thinking about next week and wondering if you’d managed to confirm the Danvers consult?”

“Yup. It’s all set. No worries.”

“Thank you. I’ll be able to relax now,” Jane tried to chuckle and sound natural and not like she was a middle-aged woman standing alone in a hotel room in her bare feet playing with her hair like an angsty, awkward teenager. “How are you?”

“Good, good. I’m actually on a date. Can we talk later? Or maybe tomorrow?”

“A date? Oooh, how fun. Who’s the lucky fellow?”

“Ummm, well the lucky fellow is actually a lovely lady named Rachel, soooo. . .”

“Oh. Gosh. I didn’t. . . well, you enjoy your night!” Jane ended the call before Sylvie could say anything else. Had she known Sylvie dated women? Had she ever even thought about it before? She didn’t think she had actually ever given it a single thought, but as she slid into the hot, sudsy bath, it was the only thought she could have.

 _Did it matter?_ Of course it didn’t.

As a doctor, Jane was competent and comfortable working with any and all people on the LGBTQIA spectrum. Many of her close colleagues were gay as well as Harold’s brother and her former roommate from college. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had plenty of exposure and contact with people who were gay. In fact it wasn’t something to which she’d ever personally given much thought before. It was scientifically, simply a natural part of the human experience.

Why then was it so jarring to think of Sylvie out on a date with a woman. Why was she trying to picture what that woman looked like, how old she was, where they were having dinner, if they would be going back to Sylvie’s after?

Jane ate the rest of her cheese in bed while trying to review the notes for the panel she was sitting on the next morning. She kept checking her phone. She had a brief call with Harold, but heard nothing from Sylvie who she assumed was living her best life out on the town with some gorgeous, young lady named Rachel.

Sleeping in a hotel by herself was never easy, especially the first night she was away. Even after doing some stretches and breathing exercises for relaxation, she figured she’d wake puffy and haggard the next morning. She touched her face with a pang of dismay. Sylvie was in her late twenties and still had alarmingly dewy skin. She was like a fairy, or at least some sort of mythical nymph who swore a blue streak. The thought made Jane smile as she settled under the sterile, white hotel sheets. Sylvie’s enormous blue eyes appeared every time Jane tried to close her own eyes to rest. Jane imagined reaching out and twirling a lock of her long, auburn hair around her finger. Unconsciously, Jane had twisted the sheet around her hand, thinking of this.

She did something she hadn’t done in decades. She brought the sheet to her lips, opened her mouth and bit down on a corner of it. She chewed it until it was soft and wet and filled her mouth in a way that felt satisfying. Then she slept.


	3. Picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvie humble brags about her boss to her date.

She didn’t plan it exactly. After dinner with Rachel, Sylvie suggested they peruse the university bookstore. It was a logical suggestion. They’d been talking about the latest offerings in Holocaust novels, on which Rachel was writing her dissertation. In the bookstore, they held hands and glanced together at titles, then Sylvie wandered off to the Behavioral Science section. She wasn’t looking for anything other than Jane’s book.

Of course she had a copy of it at home. An autographed copy, no less. But she had a silly quirk about going to bookstores, hunting down the text, and ogling it for a while.

“Figured I’d find you here,” Rachel came up behind her. “Is that your boss’s book? The one you were telling me about?”

“Yeah,” Sylvie nodded. Rachel took a copy of _Calming the mind, Creating Compassion: Indications for Pharmacology in Trauma Informed Treatment of Complex PTSD_ , and turned it over in her hand. She opened it and read the brief bio of Jane under her headshot.

“‘Dr. Foster lives in Massachusetts with her husband and dog. She practices clinical psychiatry, is a tenured professor at Harvard Medical School, where she specializes in pediatric psychiatry.’ Well, she certainly covers all the bases. She’s sort of pretty too, for an older woman.” Rachel said.

“Doesn’t even mention her awards and grants or her freakish acumen for interior decorating and flower arranging,” Sylvie sighed. She wanted to punch Rachel in the stomach. _Sort of pretty?_ Jane was fucking gorgeous. The picture on the book jacket didn’t even do her justice, and it was still fucking gorgeous. Jane’s hair was shorter then, cut in a chin length bob with wispy bangs. The photo was black and white, but Sylvie could clearly tell how she’d just had a cut and color so her hair gleamed that sunny burnished gold. She’d tipped her head just slightly down, and was smiling with her lips closed and her eyes looking up, almost shyly.

And her eyes. Sylvie could barely make eye contact with her without feeling all of the ridiculous, delirious stuff people had written in songs and poems for centuries flood her and make her forget any hard science she’d ever learned. Of course Rachel couldn’t tell from the black and white book picture of Jane, but her eyes had this magical ability to change color from jade green to smoky gray to something in between flecked with teal and amber. In the picture, Jane was wearing a very plain but elegant sweater which Sylvie knew to be deep turquoise. It had brought out all the glittering hues in her eyes and nearly blinded Sylvie. Sylvie had been selfishly pleased when Jane modestly opted to use a black and white picture for the book. She liked hoarding those private details of how Jane looked that day all to herself like a greedy hobbit.

“I was there the day they took the pictures for that jacket,” Sylvie mentioned.

“Oooh, look at you,” Rachel kissed her cheek and picked her hand back up after setting the book down. “Who knew I was dating someone on the fringes of such fame and fortune. It’s very sexy.”

“Well then,” Sylvie wagged her eyebrows and the conversation turned toward where they would go for coffee.

But even as they talked and walked down the city street, there was another part of Sylvie, sighing and longing and lingering in the sparkly wonder of Jane’s gaze.

 _Everyday you grow more beautiful to me,_ she thought. _How can this be? If I lived a hundred years, all I’d want is to see you for every moment of that time._ But she was holding hands with Rachel, and she wasn’t with Jane and she didn’t have a hundred years. She felt her heart had been left, flattened in between the pages of Jane’s closed book, back on the shelf in the shop.


	4. Gift

“Knock knock,” Sylvie said. Her hands were full, so she couldn’t actually knock. 

Jane looked up from her computer screen and a smile spread over her entire face. She felt it in her chest. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” she said. Sylvie wore a simple black dress with purple tights and black boots. Jane looked her up and down. Her outfit wasn’t elaborate by any means, but Sylvie looked particularly exquisite. “Love the boots.” 

“Aw, thanks, but I’m sure you’re just saying that because I’ve brought lunch and tea,” Sylvie scoffed. She set the bags and steaming paper cups down on the table in the corner of Jane’s office. “Be right back,” she said and trotted out of the office again. Jane immediately felt Sylvie’s absence flicker in her belly. She thought about the gift in her hand bag and went through the machinations in her mind of whether or not she should give it to her assistant. She was still contemplating this matter when Sylvie returned with Jane’s favorite mug. “Freshly washed,” she announced and set to decanting Jane’s Earl Grey from the paper cup into the porcelain mug. 

Jane joined her at the table. “Thank you for this. Quite a nice welcome home,” she said as Sylvie set Jane’s salad with avocado and chicken in front of her. 

“Have I mentioned how much I love satellite office weeks? That cafe has the best lunch in the state, I swear to fucking God,” she was already stuffing fresh, homemade chips into her mouth, crunching and taking with her mouth full. Jane glanced up from dressing her salad and raised an eyebrow. “Sorry,” Sylvie mumbled and wrinkled her nose. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re lucky you’re adorable?” Jane had missed Sylvie’s crass mouth and unapologetic manners while she’d been away. Ordinarily, Sylvie was very polished and refined. She knew when and how to conduct herself professionally. But Jane knew Sylvie felt comfortable with her, and let her true colors fly a bit more when they were alone. It had started bringing out a softer, more playful side in Jane as well when they were together. 

They chatted over lunch about the conference and Jane gave Sylvie a list of referrals she wanted made for a case she’d consulted on that morning. Ever prepared, Sylvie made notes on the tablet she’d brought in with her. “Did you get a chance to go to that gallery I told you about when you were in Chicago?” Sylvie asked around a bite of her mammoth sandwich. 

Jane smiled. “I did. You were right. It was truly unique.” 

“You’ll be better off when you just accept I’m always right,” Sylvie sighed. 

“Actually I brought you back something.”

“What? No!” 

“I did. But finish your lunch first. I don’t want you to get grease or mustard on it,” Jane laughed. Watching Sylvie inhale the rest of her food and scour her fingers with three separate napkins was nothing short of comical. Jane could barely finish her salad for the anticipation of giving the gift she brought back. “Now, it’s just a little something, but I think you’ll like it,” she prefaced as she took the parcel out of her bag. Sylvie quivered with delight as she unwrapped the tissue paper and revealed the cashmere scarf, which was hand-painted in swirls of deep indigo and violet. Jane clutched her warm mug with both hands as she watched Sylvie turn the scarf over in her hands, hold it to her face, and nuzzle it. 

“Oh, Jane. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It’ll bring out your eyes, I think,” Jane said. Sylvie wrapped it around her neck and closed her eyes as she reveled in its luxurious softness. 

“I love it. Seriously. It’s my favorite thing I own. Thank you,” she looked up at Jane as she said this and Jane realized she’d been right; Sylvie’s eyes beamed bluer than she’d ever seen them. There was a strange satisfaction had in altering the very color of someone’s eyes. 

“It’s beautiful on you,” Jane said and sipped her tea as her mouth had suddenly gone dry. 

Not long after, the receptionist buzzed to let Jane know her next patient was checking in. Sylvie packed away their lunch trash and hugged Jane impulsively. Since her office door was closed, Jane allowed herself to linger just a moment longer in the embrace, to inhale the delicate vanilla musk of Sylvie’s perfume and feel the tickle of her hair against her cheek.


	5. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which strange things happen to Jane when she thinks of Sylvie.

After her doctor appointment, Jane took the rest of the afternoon off. It was unusual for her to take random, personal time in the middle of a week by herself, especially when Harold was away. Not that she minded being alone. It was just an anomaly.

Frida, her rescue mutt, snuffled excitedly around her feet when she entered the house through the garage and mud room. She leashed the wriggling dog and they walked the loop around her neighborhood. It grew dark and holiday lights came on in yards and on porches. It was a lovely time of year where they lived. She brought Frida in, fed her, and settled on her couch with a glass of shiraz. She hadn’t eaten since lunch and the wine made her head float.

Back in the kitchen, she rummaged through the fridge. She wondered what Sylvie was doing, if she was with Rachel. The thought of Sylvie and Rachel’s nude bodies, breasts rubbing up against one another entered Jane’s mind suddenly and intrusively. It made her gasp and grasp the edge of the counter. She drank another glass of wine quickly, but couldn’t stop thinking about the two female forms, kissing and touching as if they were there in the kitchen with her.

“Stop,” she said out loud. “You cannot think of your assistant that way.” Her left hand splayed over the flat of her abdomen and her breath quickened. She glanced around her kitchen, trying to ground herself by taking stock of familiar things. _Canister of flour. Sugar bowl. Painting of hummingbirds. Sylvie’s taut skin and perky, pink nipples. Cappuccino maker._

It made no sense. She had just come from a doctor’s appointment to get her levels checked for peri-menopause. Of course older women were still sexual beings, but it had been forever since Jane had felt, well, much of anything. On extremely rare occasions when she and Harold had intercourse, he always initiated and she usually let him finish without seeking any pleasure herself anymore. It took her longer now. She was self conscious about it. She poured herself so devoutly into work she barely had any time to consider her sensual needs, and now, here she was fantasizing inexplicably.

Huffing a little sigh, rolling her eyes, she leaned against the counter and worked her hand down the front of her skirt and into her tights. She felt her heat and lower, her wet arousal. “Oh, oh god,” she panted softly. When she closed her eyes, she saw Sylvie tilting her head, watching with that amused little expression she so often wore. Her dark hair fell over her bare shoulders. She shifted her weight and one of her naked hips jutted up, saucily. Rachel was gone. It was just the two of them; Sylvie and Jane. “You’re so pretty,” Jane whispered.

The thought occurred she should go into her bedroom and lie down, but she thought if she did anything it might break the spell, she might lose the incredible sensation building between her legs, spreading up in her belly. “I want. . .” she mumbled and circled herself. It was so good, miraculously fast. When she came, it was shockingly strong and she threw her head back and knocked it into the cabinet. It hurt and she cried out, but for a long time after, she just stood there, eyes squeezed shut, licking her lips as her breath slowed.

She turned to the sink and washed her hands. “What did I just do?” She exhaled. Tears stung her eyes. Jane imagined Sylvie coming up behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist and holding her with her sweet, soft head pressed against Jane’s shoulder.


	6. Food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously posted as a Drabble, but I edited and added and am posting as part of this collection. . . still not really sure what I'm doing with these little things, but if you are reading, I'm really so grateful and I hope you are having a wonderful day. xoxoxo.

Neither of them liked eating alone. Jane’s husband owned a chain of boutique hotels on several continents, and he travelled a lot. Jane said it was both the secret to the longevity of their marriage and her slender figure. Sylvie marveled at this, but compiled a list of restaurants they could try when Harold was out of town.

“You need sustenance to keep your wits about you if you are going to be treating the witless,” Sylvie joked one evening.

“Hush!” Jane pretended to be mortified, but she grinned. “You know you cannot say those types of things if you want to stay employed here. Not to mention if you want that fellowship.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Being PC is so overrated,” she groaned. “Anyway, you need to have some humor to stay alive in this profession. That family you saw today was particularly morbid.”

“You also need some humanity, my Sweetness,” Jane scolded gently but she agreed to supper at a small, upscale bistro. They were seated at a cozy, corner table lit by a candle. They both had diverse and discerning palates and it was fun for them to try new things, or just to sit at a bar and nibble appetizers while they discussed the day.

“So, how’s it going with Rachel,” Jane managed to slip into conversation after they shared an appetizer and were well into their second glass of wine.

“It’s fine,” Sylvie said, clearly not intending to offer any more details.

“That’s it? That’s all I get?”

“Ugghhhhh, are you going to make this weird?”

“What? Who’s making anything weird, Sylvie. I’m simply asking about your girlfriend.”

Sylvie folded her hands on the table in front of her. She leaned forward a bit and stared at Jane. “Okay, first of all, she is not my girlfriend. We are dating and fooling around and she’s decent in the sack, but that’s about it. Second of all, the way you asked the question was seriously strange. Like what? What do you want to know? You’ve literally never asked about my love life before. It’s fucking weird.”

“I think you’re projecting, Sylvie.” Jane's voice was even as she picked up her wine glass and rubbed her thumb on the stem. “And I’m also not understanding exactly why you’re getting so defensive. It was just a question.” There was a pinch of hurt between her eyes that nearly crushed Sylvie flat.

“I’m sorry,” she said and put her hand on top of Jane’s. “Relationships are weird. I’m weird. I get all fucked up. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” She puckered her lips and blew a little kiss in Jane’s direction. Jane’s expression softened instantly. “So what do you want to know?”

“You don’t have to say anything if you aren’t comfortable. I shouldn’t have pressed you,” Jane said.

“No. Go ahead.”

“All right, well, what does she do?”

“She’s a doctoral student at your fine Ivy League institution of higher education as a matter of fact,” Sylvie said.

“Is that right? Maybe I’ll have her in one of my classes,” Jane chuckled.

“Doubtful,” Sylvie said and reached for a piece of bread. “You know I took one of your classes, right?”

“What? No! Which one?”

“Differential Diagnosis for Abnormal Psychiatric Populations in Congregate Care. Three years ago?”

“Oh, Gosh. That was not my favorite class. I only taught it one semester and then begged them never to make me do it again. You were in that class?”

“Yes, you don’t remember me?”

“I’m afraid I don’t. How did you do? Did I grade you terribly hard? I seem to recall getting a lot of complaints from angry students. Were you one of them?”

“Nope. I got a perfect score. Four point oh.” Sylvie raised her glass as if toasting an invisible guest and downed the rest of her beverage. She’d worked particularly hard in that class, not because she was overly engaged in the material, but because she had a huge crush on the professor. She didn’t mention this detail as Jane refilled her glass.

“You’re joking.”

“Of course I am not joking. This surprises you?”

“Well, it shouldn’t surprise me at all. You’re brilliant.” Jane shook her head and seemed to blush, but it might have just been the wine. “You never told me this.”

“I’m telling you now.” Sylvie had managed to wedge one of her legs up against Jane’s under the table. The physicality of their friendship was natural to them, but strange to try to explain. Without acknowledging it verbally, they were not affectionate at the office or in front of mutual contacts. They didn’t discuss their closeness or the way they reached for one another as if they’d known one another for decades as opposed to the short time in which they’d been acquainted. Sylvie sensed tension coil in Jane; a simultaneous enjoyment at wanting her near while also wanting to keep their professional boundaries intact. Had anyone Jane known entered the restaurant at that moment, Sylvie knew there would be an immediate distance placed between them, that Jane would make a casual excuse about them having a working dinner. If any introductions were made Sylvie would be called something neat and professional.

Sylvie wondered if the tables were turned how she would introduce Jane to a friend or someone from one of her classes. _The brilliant psychiatrist who wrote that book I won’t stop talking about? The older woman who’s perfume I dragged you to the mall to smell samples of but couldn’t afford to buy for myself? My boss? A dear friend? The human who has wrapped herself around my brain and wakes me up in the middle of the night throbbing and wet and wanting and lonely?_

None of it seemed particularly accurate.

There must have been a part of her that was already in love with Jane at that point, but would not allow her to know it. As she looked across the tiny table at the stately older woman with her perfect posture and delicate, blonde bob, Sylvie scoffed and shook her head. _For someone so smart you know fuck all_ , she wanted to say.

“Dessert?” Jane asked with a mischievous smile.

“Yeah and more wine. Or maybe let’s do some Prosecco?”

“You’re not driving, right?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, well, you better not come in hungover tomorrow morning. I hear your boss is a real stickler about that kind of thing, young lady.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Jane walked her to the train station, arm in arm. They were both pleasantly buzzed and their slurring voices created steam in the frigid, winter air. “Get home safe,” Jane said and kissed her on the cheek. Sylvie stumbled down the steps into the station and caught the train just as it was coming in. All the way home, she felt Jane’s lips on the apple of her cheek.

She had just finished washing her face and was getting into bed when her phone buzzed. “Hey, Jane,” she picked up instantly. Typically when she called this late it was because there was something important related to work that needed attention.

“Hello you,” Jane’s voice sounded warm and sticky like maybe she’d had a couple more drinks when she got home. “You know you’re right?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I got home and opened my file for that course. And I re-read your papers.”

“Oh?”

“Not only did you get a perfect grade, you got the only perfect grade in that class. I don’t know how I could have forgotten, but the moment I looked at your paper I remembered. Good God, Little One.”

Sylvie’s cheeks burned as she pulled back her covers and climbed between them. “Well, I must say that’s gratifying,” she said.

“Don’t be gratified, Sylvie. You’re brilliant. I hope I didn’t wake you. I just wanted to tell you.”

“You didn’t wake me,” she whispered. She slid her hand up her night shirt and flicked her fingers over her nipples. She wondered how she could keep Jane on the phone all night. “Anyway, it’s not every night a girl gets a call from one of the world’s preeminent doctors just calling to tell her she’s a smarty pants.”

“What are you even doing working for me, Sylvie?” Jane breathed. “You could be doing anything. With a brain like yours.”

There were any numbers of answers to that question, none of which Sylvie wanted to delve into. “Oh, Jane,” she fumbled. She had her whole breast in her hand and was squeezing it. “Ask me anything else.”

“No. I’ll let you get some rest. See you in the morning?” Jane said.

If Sylvie hadn’t known Harold was out of town, she’d have thought for sure Jane was keeping her voice low to keep their conversation a secret. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but she hung up and turned off the light and moved her hand down lower and she thought about how Jane had called her _Little One_.


	7. Care

“Jane. I can’t come in to work. I’m not feeling okay.”

“You sound terrible. What on earth is wrong?”

“I started feeling shitty over the weekend and last night I was having trouble breathing and my throat is so sore,” Sylvie paused and coughed for a long time. When she resumed speaking, her voice was hoarse and she was wheezing. “Everything hurts.”

“Sweetness,” Jane sighed. “Oh, dear. Are you crying?”

“No. I don’t know. Maybe a little?” Sylvie had another coughing fit and sniffled loudly.

“Are you going to see your doctor? I’m worried. That cough sounds bad. And do you have a fever?” Jane glanced at her watch. She’d just gotten to her office. She could be at Sylvie’s apartment across town in about a half an hour.

“I don’t think I can get up,” Sylvie wept. “Anyway, I’m in between doctors. I’d have to go to a treatment center and I hate those places.”

Jane clicked her tongue, trying to formulate a plan. Sylvie’s family, while by all accounts supportive, lived about eight hours away in Bethesda, Maryland. “Can Rachel come take care of you?”

“No. She went home to Ottawa for the holiday break.”

 _That’s it_ , she thought. “I’m on my way.”

Sylvie was in worse shape than Jane even suspected. Her normally rosy complexion was ashen, and she looked dehydrated. She didn’t appear to have strep, but she definitely felt feverish when Jane pressed her cool hand to her forehead. “Do I need a doctor?” Sylvie asked from her nest on the couch.

Jane laughed. “Do we need to add delusional to your list of symptoms? Your doctor is right here,” she said and took her stethoscope and blood pressure cuff out of the large bag she’d brought with her. Sylvie’s blood pressure was elevated and her heart was speedy. Jane clipped an oximeter to Sylvie’s finger and waited for the reading. Sylvie was breathing rapidly. “You blood oxygen seems to be only slightly lower. I’m going to take a listen to your lungs, all right, Syl?” Sylvie nodded. She couldn’t seem to get her fingers to cooperate with unbuttoning the front of her oversized plaid pajama shirt, so Jane gently pushed her hand away and helped with the buttons. She listened to Sylvie’s lungs carefully.

“Why are you making that face?” Sylvie whimpered.

“You’ve got some crackling and rumbling which likely means you’ve got some fluid. I’m concerned you might have pneumonia.” Jane looked around the tidy but spartan apartment. “Have you been hydrating?”

“Fuck, Jane!” Sylvie muttered and flopped back on the couch. Jane patted Sylvie’s arm, then got up to have a look around the kitchen. There was very little in the way of food or beverage, and Jane couldn’t even find a kettle to make tea. Mercifully, Sylvie’s closet and dresser were well organized, so it took no time at all for Jane to assemble a bag of essentials.

“Up you get, Little One,” she said as she reentered the living room. Barely conscious, Sylvie opened her eyes and stared up at Jane. “Come on. You’re coming home with me.”

“But what about work?” Sylvie whimpered.

“Nice thing about being your own boss is you get to make your own hours, and you can work from home if and when you choose.” She helped Sylvie out to her car and phoned in a couple of prescriptions for her on the way out to her home in the suburbs. She put Sylvie to bed in the guest room closest to her own bedroom, and made sure she had a glass of juice and some Tylenol before she fell back to sleep. “I’ll be working just down the hall,” Jane whispered, but Sylvie was already snoring lightly. Jane woke her a couple hours later when her medications were delivered. She brought a big mug of tea, a bowl of soup, and plate of toast with the antibiotics. “Please eat a little so you don’t get an upset stomach on top of it all,” she said and stepped back outside the guest room door to take a call. When she came back into the room, Sylvie was sitting up in bed, nibbling her toast and looking at her with amused confusion. Jane gave a little huff and shrug as if to say, what?

“I heard you. Just now, when you stepped out.”

“And?”

“You told whoever that was you were taking care of a sick friend.”

“Well aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Sylvie coughed into her elbow for a long moment during which Jane tried not to visually wince at how terrible it sounded. It was one thing to be a medical professional; it was completely another to be tending to someone for whom you cared very deeply. All of her professional armor seemed to melt into a puddle at her feet in the face of Sylvie’s discomfort. “I just never heard you tell anyone we were friends before, that’s all,” she finally managed to choke. She put her toast on the plate and slumped back on the pillows. Jane moved the tray to a side table and sat down on the bed. She scooped up Sylvie’s hand and squeezed it.

“I think we’re certainly friends,” she suggested. “Maybe even more than that?” Her words surprised her and made her instantly dizzy so she quickly added, “Close friends.”

“Mmmmh,” Sylvie murmured. She was drifting off again. Jane moved to let her sleep, but Sylvie pulled her back. “Stay with me? For a little?” Her sleepy voice beguiled Jane.

“Of course,” Jane whispered. She kicked off her shoes, put her feet up on the bed, and settled her body gently next to Sylvie.


	8. Confusion

Friday nights brought Sylvie unpleasant pangs when it came time to leave the office. She found excuses to wander back towards Jane’s office, to double check details on scheduling and referrals, to fetch teacups, and make sure there was nothing else she could do prior to leaving for the weekend.

“I’m all set, thank you,” Jane glanced up from her work. “Go on ahead and enjoy your weekend, you beautiful, young thing. I won’t be long after.”

“Okay,” Sylvie said slowly. “It’s just, well, I could wait for you? Are you sure I can’t treat you to supper? Or even just drinks downstairs? You were so kind to me last week. I’d really like to repay you somehow.”

Jane smiled, but it didn’t seem like a real smile because it didn’t make her eyes twinkle. Maybe she was tired. Or maybe she had other stuff on her mind, either way, Sylvie felt flat and outside of something, looking in. “Thank you, but I can’t tonight. Harold is back from Amsterdam and we have reservations at one of his hotels in New York.”

“Oh. I see,” Sylvie nodded. “You’re driving all the way to the City on a Friday night? Wow. Look at you, living your best erudite life.”

“It’s nothing. We’ll leave after all the traffic and get there late.” Jane shrugged and did something weird with her nose that made her face wrinkle and shiver. She pushed away from her desk and stood. “Anyway, if you really want to repay me, you can just give me a hug.”

“Mmmkay,” Sylvie bit the inside of her cheek awkwardly and dipped her head as Jane came towards her with arms outstretched. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want to hug Jane. She didn’t want to touch her. It was too much. She wanted too much. She reciprocated the embrace by loosely looping her arms around her boss, her employer, her superior, the woman who was going away with her husband for the weekend. _The jerks probably have tickets to Hamilton too; probably not even matinee tickets._ Sylvie grit her teeth to endure the hug.

Jane, for her part, didn’t seem to notice the hesitation, or if she did, she chose to ignore it. She took a deep breath and nuzzled warmly against Sylvie.

“Do I hug you too tight?” She whispered in Sylvie’s ear and the warmth of her breath melted any urge Sylvie had to be cool.

“No,” she murmured. “Do I hug you tight enough?”

“You’re perfect,” Jane sighed. “You’re so huggable.” Janes lips brushed Sylvie’s cheek.

All the way down in the elevator, Sylvie’s gut swirled. Jane hadn’t smiled at her in the way that made her stomach flip. She did something entirely different. And it was electrifyingly confusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been reading, thank you so much!!! Please feel free to leave a comment and share your thoughts or just say hello. xoxoxoxo


	9. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they have a fight.

Jane dragged Sylvie from the party to a room Sylvie hadn’t been in before. It was an office on the first floor of Jane’s spacious house, down the long hall from the kitchen. Like every other room of Jane’s home, the office was well appointed with lovely furniture and art.

The jazz ensemble and chatter of party guests could still be heard through the door Jane shut brusquely behind them.

“Care to tell me what that was all about, Sylvie?” Jane snapped. Sylvie had never heard her sound so cross, nor had she ever seen her face so flushed with emotion, her eyes so verdantly, fiercely feline.

“Care to tell me why you’re acting like a jealous wife?” Sylvie bit back.

“I beg your pardon?” Jane hissed.

“You have hardly paid any attention to me all night, and when you have, it’s been to cut me down in front of your super brilliant, rich, famous friends!”

“So you chose to make a scene with your girlfriend?”

“Fuck this. I don’t know why you even invited me here tonight.”

“I invited you here because I wanted you here.”

“So then you wanna tell me why you’re being such a bitch to me and why you’re looking at Rachel like she killed your dog?”

“I invited _you_ to my holiday party. _You_.” Jane jabbed her exquisitely long, tapered index finger at Sylvie. “It just would have been nice to know if you were bringing a plus one. It’s called _etiquette_ , Sylvie.”

“Right. _Etiquette_ , Jane. And I’m sorry, Miss Manners, but is dragging your guest into your back office to tear her a new one also considered proper? I don’t remember reading that in the manual.”

“You told me she was in Ottawa! I took care of you for a week in my home because you told me she was hundreds of miles away! I had no idea she was going to show up in a three piece, pin-stripe suit like some kind of gangster with you on her arm. ”

“She _was_ in Ottawa! She came home to be with me for the holidays as a surprise. I didn’t get any say in the matter.” Sylvie tugged angrily at the black lace dress she’d worn. It suddenly seemed way too revealing and completely inappropriate. “Shall I go out and call her a cab? Have her leave? And what reason should I give her, Jane? What reason exactly? You don’t have enough crab cakes? You don’t like her suit? Or what? You don’t like sharing your wine, or you just don’t like sharing? Why don’t you honestly tell me, because I’d be really fucking interested in you being honest with me for fucking once!” Sylvie swatted the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Or what? You’ll kick me out, fire me? Because that’s all I am, right? Your _professional associate_? Your assistant? So I guess you can do with me as you please if there are no personal feelings attached whatsoever.”

“Sylvie. You are out of line. What the hell?”

“That’s how you’ve been introducing me all night, when you’ve even managed to spare three seconds to look at me. And now you’re giving me a rash of shit for bringing someone here with me when I knew I’d be out of my league with all these fucking geniuses and completely on my own without any of your attention,” she sobbed.

“Syl,” Jane sighed and spread her hands, palms up towards her. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight. Come.” Sylvie collapsed against Jane and they clung to one another for several long moments, quivering with their mutual tears. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. I can’t bear to see you cry. Shh,” she said as much for herself as for Sylvie. She covered Sylvie’s cheeks in little kisses then clutched her shoulders and held her at arm’s length to look at her.

“Am I all smudged?” Sylvie heaved a broken sigh.

“Not at all. I don’t know how you manage to look so gorgeous after a cry.”

“I wanted to look pretty tonight,” Sylvie sputtered. “I wore this dress and now I just feel like an ass.”

“You look beautiful, Syl. I’ve been admiring your legs in this thing all night. That slit up the side, wow.”

“Really?”

Jane nodded. “Good god, Little One, what am I going to do with you?”

Sylvie shivered and wiped her nose on her wrist. “I love you,” she said in a shaking breath. “I love you, Jane.”

“And I love you too.”

They sat together on the office couch, very close to one another. Jane found tissues and dabbed at Sylvie’s face. Sylvie’s hands naturally rested on Jane’s waist in a sort of embrace. She leaned her head on Jane’s shoulder and Jane stroked the hair off of Sylvie’s face. Sylvie closed her eyes and Jane’s fingers fluttered over her eyelids, her cheekbones, her jaw. With the slightest adjustment of her neck, Sylvie’s lips were able to press lightly against Jane’s neck. She felt Jane’s breath catch slightly. Anyone else would have missed it, but not Sylvie. Sylvie slid her hand up and cupped Jane’s face. Pulled by silent and heavy magnetism, they leaned into one another. Sylvie smelled the sweet, decadent floral of Jane’s perfume and the tang of alcohol on her breath. Then there was dreamy softness of their lips as they met.

“Oh! Oh, Sylvie, I’m, I. . . “ Jane sprang back.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sylvie whispered. Her hand rested on Jane’s neck and she stroked it gently.

“Nnno.” Jane pulled away. She stood and sort of waved her hands in front of her. “I, uh, I’m not. . .” she stuttered.

“What?”

“Sylvie. I’m not. . . I’m so sorry.”

Sylvie stood and stepped into Jane’s space. “You’re not what?”

Jane swallowed hard and wrapped her arms over her chest. Her fingers worked the nap of her red velvet dress at her waist. She shook her head. “I’m not like you. I”m not gay.”

Sylvie extended a hand and smiled weakly. “You think labels matter to me? They don’t. You’re Jane. You’re all that matters.”

“Oh, god, Syl. I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t.” Pushing Sylvie’s hand away, she hurried from the room without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot begin to tell you what your comments and kudos mean to me. This is such a challenging time, and being able to connect with people here through writing gives me such a burst of hope and happiness. Thank you so very much. Sending you love and kisses through the atmosphere! xoxoxoxo. Scarlette.


	10. Pining

They chose Switzerland for their vacation, and once they arrived, Jane forgot why she wanted to go there in the first place. It was beautiful, but cold. She loathed skiing and barely left the hotel while Harold spent all day on the mountains. She booked spa treatments and tried to shop. Unwittingly, she judged everything she looked at by whether or not Sylvie would like it. She touched everything with fingers that shook and longed to feel something just beyond her reach.

Out at night for supper with Harold, she could barely stomach food, let alone his company. She was irritable and picky with him. Infinitely patient, he brought her back to the hotel suite and suggested they enjoy the jacuzzi on their private balcony. “Has work been particularly brutal these past months?” He asked as he eased into the hot tub beside her.

“Not particularly. Why?” Jane’s breath puffed up in the frigid air. She submerged herself to her chin in the bubbling water.

“It doesn’t usually take you this long to unwind on a trip,” he observed. “Shall I rub your shoulders?”

“No. Thank you, but no,” she shook her head and crossed her arms over her body. Later, she felt bad for being snappish with him. When he reached for her in bed, she held him and moved in the ways she knew would help him finish fastest. He rolled over and snored softly. She crept into the bathroom and bit her fist as she sobbed.

The next afternoon, she wandered boutiques and bookshops. She sat at a cafe with her phone on the table. It didn’t ring or buzz and her heart sank.

In an art museum, she found a quiet corner in a secluded gallery. She sat on a bench for some time and was utterly relieved when no one else entered. In private silence she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and only then did she allow herself to recall the night of the holiday party. She touched her own throat as she recalled the tender heat of Sylvie’s lips. Had she ever guessed how persistent Sylvie’s little fingertips would be as they kneaded the back of her neck, or how fiercely protective her arms would feel when they held one another after their harsh words.

The whimper left Jane's lips and seemed much louder in the empty gallery than it was in any reality. She ran her tongue over her lower lip and tried to remember the smell of Sylvie’s breath, or how she might have tasted, but it had all happened so fast.

She’d never wanted to make Sylvie cry, but heaven forgive her, she’d never seen anything more beautiful than the flush of her distraught cheeks, the blaze of her furious eyes. Even there, alone, in Switzerland, thousands of miles away, it made her shiver. Impulsively, she dug her phone out of her bag and texted, _I was appalling. I am so so sorry. I love you truly. When I come home, will you please let me make it all up to you?_

But she didn’t press send. She deleted the text and jammed her phone back in her bag.

In the museum gift shop, she contemplated various gifts she could bring back for Sylvie. She fingered a silk kimono and held a pair of pearl earrings up to the light. She bought them both. She bought chocolates. She bought a delicate, filigree bangle bracelet. She left the museum and walked up and down a street of shops purchasing every little trinket that caught her eye.

Back at the hotel, she packed these precious items carefully among her clothes, and returned compulsively to search for them and touch them in between her sweaters and jeans and skirts.

Jane was relieved when Harold brought her to the airport for her flight home. He was headed to Bulgaria for work. Jane was fussy with him in the car and their goodbye was even cooler than usual. Settled in her seat on the plane, she felt ashamed at how she’d treated him during their entire trip. It wasn’t like her to behave that way toward her husband. She opened her laptop to work on the flight and realized with a jolt of terrible clarity why she’d been so miserable with him. She’d picked on him for the simple and unfortunate fact that he wasn’t Sylvie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG you guys... your comments. I love you so so so much.


	11. Oops

Sylvie closed her eyes while Rachel’s tongue swirled her nipple. It felt nice, but not like much. Maybe she’d had too much to drink at the New Year’s Eve Party. Or maybe she was just exhausted from dancing until two in the morning. Maybe she was completely numb from simultaneously hating and missing Jane.

Rachel scratched the side of Sylvie’s thigh and bit her nipple. Sylvie felt that. She mewled lustily at the sting of pain tinted pleasure as Rachel worked her way down her body. When they’d first started dating, Sylvie had been mightily impressed with Rachel’s pussy eating acumen, but tonight, it just felt like a chore to lie there and get eaten out.

Speaking of chores, Sylvie wondered what fresh hell awaited her at the office when she got back from her holiday time off. Patients always went bananas over the holidays. There would be a million calls from edgy people demanding med changes. And of course, she was going to have to face Jane.

“Ummfff fuck,” Sylvie groaned, more as a response of thinking about seeing Jane at the office than as a response to Rachel’s tongue circling her clit.

“Yeah? You like that? Mmmmmh,” Rachel murmured and set to sucking and lapping away at Sylvie.

“Oh, yeah, Babe, that’s so nice,” Sylvie mumbled and hoped she didn’t sound bored as fuck. The thought that she’d be bored as fuck while she was getting fucked made her giggle.

“Sorry, did I tickle you?”

“Nuhnono, you’re great. So good,” Sylvie sighed. She was still heavily tipsy and a bit stoned as well. It had been quite a party. At least it had been more fun than that debacle at Jane’s house before Christmas. “Fuck,” she hissed again as Rachel curled a couple fingers up inside to stimulate her G-spot.

Sylvie closed her eyes and was transported back to the couch in that back office. Jane had smelled so amazing. And the sensation of her silky neck had been somehow tattooed on Sylvie’s lips. She curled her lips in and rubbed them against one another. She turned her face into her pillow and tried to remember the luxe velvet of Jane’s gown over her firm belly where Sylvie’s hand had fallen after they’d sat down on the couch. She imagined what it would have been like to slip her hand down and reach up under that gorgeous dress, between Jane’s legs. Sylvie would have made her dripping wet and kissed her full mouth the entire time so she could feel Jane’s breath when she came for her, so she could swallow all of her little moans and breathy noises. _I just want to make you feel good, so so good_ , she thought and whimpered. 

She touched her own stomach, trying to recapture the feel of Jane’s warmth, the rise and fall of her breath. If she could be there now, kissing Jane deep and slow, she’d rub her thumb over Jane’s breast, _Oh fuck, yes_ , just like she was doing to herself right now. It would feel so good in that velvet dress. _Fuck, fuckfuckfuck!_ She’d show Jane how to touch her, how she could practically make her come just from touching her tits. Rachel didn’t know about that, but it didn’t matter, Sylvie didn’t love Rachel so it probably wouldn’t happen. But with Jane. . . if Jane touched her anywhere she’d crumble.

Jane’s eyes hovered, huge and misty in front of Sylvie. Jane smiled in the way that made her eyes sparkle and crinkle. The pressure built low in Sylvie’s belly and spread in warm waves out over her thighs. Her breath became quicker and more shallow as she squeezed her nipples and worked her hips.

_You going to do it, Sweetness?_

“Yeah,” Sylvie panted.

_Do it for me, Syl. Let me see you come apart. Come for me, Syl._

“God, yes, fuckfuckfuck, yeah, ohmyfukcking god, Jane!”

Rachel’s head slowly emerged from between Sylvie’s legs. She wiped her mouth on the back of her arm and looked incredulously at the woman shuddering and gasping in the bedsheets. “Uhh, did that just. . . “

“Yeah,” Sylvie propped herself up on her elbows. “Sorry.”

“Kay then. I’m gonna go.”

“Probably best,” Sylvie said. Rachel let herself out quietly. Sylvie pulled the covers up and curled into herself, but she couldn’t sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your lovely comments are so motivating and just make me want to write more and more and more for you about these two babies. I am so grateful that you are reading and giving me such kind support!!! xoxoxo


	12. Knots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is angst.

The first week back in the office was quiet and tense. They worked efficiently, but there was no warmth or laughter between them. Sylvie’s typically open and playful face settled into a preoccupied scowl, as if her muscles forgot how to smile. Jane became so fretful and distracted she worried she was developing a tremor and wondered if she should schedule neurological testing. 

Both of them ached with longing for the very human with whom they sat in the same space and time, yet for whom they could not reach. 

Jane attempted to chisel at the stone wall between them first, because she thought she’d go out of her mind if she didn’t, and a good psychiatrist cannot provide care for patients if they are not mentally and emotionally stable themselves. 

She appeared at Sylvie’s office and knocked softly as she let herself in. “Can we talk? I think we need to talk.” 

“Literally zero good conversations ever start with those words,” Sylvie groaned and rolled her eyes. Jane sat in the chair opposite the desk. 

“Well, then how would you start this conversation? To make it a good one?” She folded her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking. 

“I guess I wouldn’t,” Sylvie shrugged. 

“You’d just keep going on as we are?”

Sylvie shrugged again.

“It doesn’t feel bearable, Syl,” Jane sighed. “At least not for me. I, um, I don’t know how it feels for you, but for me it’s been awful.”

“Okay,” Sylvie nodded and huffed out a breath. “Well I’ve applied for several positions elsewhere, so with any luck I’ll be out of your hair in a month or two and you won’t have to bear me for much longer.”

“No,” Jane exclaimed. Clutching the arms of the chair in which she sat, she leaned forward “No, that’s not what I want!” Her eyes burned with tears. She thought of the drawer at home where she’d carefully packed away all the gifts she’d brought home from Switzerland. In a shuddering breath she asked, “But is that what you want?”

Sylvie hadn’t really been able to look directly at Jane to this point, but she looked at her now. She looked in her eyes and felt the misty, gray sorrow there. For a while, she was silent, just contemplating how Jane’s eyes were the most beautiful eyes in the world and they were so filled with pain and helplessness. It made Sylvie’s stomach twist in a series of impossibly complex knots that she felt entirely certain would never be untied. At last, she said, “I can’t have what I want, Jane.”

“Oh, Sylvie,” Jane started, but Sylvie cut her off. 

“No. Stop right there. We do not have to do this. I fucked this up. I misread things and acted on feelings that were not even,” she paused and bit her lower lip then threw her hands up and smacked them down on the desk. The suddenness of the gesture made Jane jump. “You know what. No. It doesn’t even matter.”

“It doesn’t matter to you? Because it does matter to me.” Jane sniffled. “I miss you terribly.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sylvie quipped. 

“You’re being cruel because you’re angry with me. I understand and I don’t blame you.” Jane inhaled deeply and looked up at the ceiling then directly at Sylvie who’s eyes had never looked as violet as they did just then. “You’re so very beautiful. It’s not because you aren’t. I don’t want you to feel rejected. But, I am who I am. I’m so much older. I’m your boss and I’m married. Not to mention you have Rachel.”

“Please stop.” Sylvie’s nostrils flared with rage. “So many reasons, Jane. I know all the fucking reasons and I don’t need you to recite them for me like I’m a fucking child.” She clenched her fists on the desk. “Anyway, Rachel and I broke up.”

“Oh. Gosh. I’m sorry to- .”

“Look, are we done here?”

“Sylvie,” Jane whispered. “I did not expect you to make this easy, but I did not expect you shut me out.” She stood. Sylvie swiveled her chair around to look out the window behind her so she wouldn’t have to watch Jane walk out of her office. She held her breath until she heard the door close and then she folded over onto her lap and cried silent tears as the knots inside her tightened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deep breaths loves... hang on tight for another moment or so...


	13. Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is reconciliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, my loves. xoxo.

The second week passed similarly to the first, except the silence and distance between them grew deeper and longer. And on the third week, Sylvie deposited a resignation letter on Jane’s desk. 

“What’s this?” Jane asked.

“I got a position with Sanderson in Back Bay. They’re going to let me assist with consults and see some patients while I work on my license.” Sylvie rocked on her feet and cleared her throat. “Anyway, they said they’d call you at some point for a reference to make it official, even though it’s already like a done deal. I start the second week of February.”

“Sanderson?” Jane murmured and turned the envelope over in her hand then put it back on the corner of her desk, unopened. “Congratulations. They’re top notch.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Sylvie said and went back to her own office. 

Jane glanced at her calendar. The timing couldn’t be worse. Sylvie had given a very generous three week notice, but for two of those weeks, Jane would be in various cities across the country, traveling for speaking engagements. She was actually scheduled to leave early so she could visit a friend in Seattle for a couple days prior to the first lecture. 

“Oh no,” she whispered. This left approximately three days. Three days and then Sylvie would be gone, lost to her forever. Had she lived a life before Sylvie? She couldn’t remember. As she sat at her desk, trying to catch her breath, feeling like she was going to pass out, Jane honestly could not remember what the shape of her world had been prior to knowing Sylvie. And she honestly did not want to know what the shape of her world would be without her. 

She looked at the envelope that held Sylvie’s intention to leave her. She considered tearing it to bits or putting it in the paper shredder. She did neither of these things. She turned it over and ran her finger over the sealed flap. Then she took out her pen and wrote, “I’ve not been honest.” She set the envelope in front of her on her desk and looked at it throughout the day. 

Late in the afternoon, she went to the break room to make herself a cup of tea. Sylvie had stopped bringing her tea in the afternoon. She passed Sylvie’s office and saw her standing by her window, speaking to someone on the phone. “I know it seems like a long wait, but I promise it’s standard and this really is the best guy in the state for this kind of testing. . . mmmhmmm. . . yes. . . oh, believe me, I understand. . . totally.” Jane continued into the break room and got down her mug and dug out a tea bag as she waited for the electric kettle. She paced and picked at her cuticles. She walked back to Sylvie’s office. 

Even in her kitten heels, Jane’s feet were silent on the carpet as she entered Sylvie’s office and closed the door behind her. Sylvie was still engrossed in the call, gazing out her window, trying to convince whoever it was of whatever she needed them to do. Her voice was patient and kind. She must have seen Jane’s reflection in the window as Jane approached, but she didn’t turn around. She finished her call and lowered the phone to its cradle which she’d moved onto the windowsill. “I’ll miss this view,” she said softly. Outside, the dusk darkened city twinkled with lights. 

Jane was at Sylvie’s shoulder. There was barely any space between their bodies. Closing her eyes, Jane inhaled the vanilla musk of Sylvie’s perfume. Without a word, she swept Sylvie’s beautiful, dark locks to one side and lowered her lips to the spot of bare neck she’d exposed. The moment her lips touched Sylvie’s skin, Jane whimpered and started to shake. To steady herself, she wrapped one arm around Sylvie’s waist, and her other around Sylvie’s shoulders. She had kissed her way to the nape of Sylvie’s neck before she realized she was crying. “Please,” Jane whispered. 

Sylvie still stared straight ahead, but one of her hands found its way to the top of Jane’s arm. Her touch was warm. “What are you doing?” She whispered. 

“I’m being honest,” Jane murmured and nuzzled Sylvie’s ear with her nose. She kissed the line of Sylvie’s jaw. 

“Finally,” Sylvie exhaled and turned to face her. For a long time, they just stared at one another, touched each other’s faces, wiped each other’s tears. It was like the first time in a long time they had actually seen one another. “What now?” Sylvie asked. 

“I don’t know,” Jane shook her head. “Just don’t go, please. Please, Syl.”

Sylvie put her hand on the white, silken front of Jane’s shirt, over her heart. “But what does that mean?” 

“I ddon- I don’t know,” Jane’s voice broke. She put her hand over Sylvie’s and brought it to her lips, kissed it, pressed it against her cheek. “Only don’t leave me. Don’t go to Sanderson’s. Stay.”

“Stay?”

“Yes. Please.”

“For you, or with you?” The lines deepened between Sylvie’s brow as she waited for Jane’s reply. 

“Oh,” Jane sighed. “With me. Stay with me.” Her voice was tiny, but it had never been so certain and she suddenly realized what it meant, what it truly meant to hold two conflicting things at the same time. To her great relief, Sylvie nodded. 

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” she said and she slipped a hand around Jane’s waist like it was the easiest thing in the world, like she’d been doing it forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please help me!!! I am longing to find songs or music that speak to the Sylvie and Jane dynamic. Music is so powerful to me, and I am wondering if you wonderful and creative and introspective souls can suggest any songs that you think exemplify or embody this pair. I love making playlists for my stories or for my "ships" and would adore it if you helped me with this one. If you think of a song, please feel free to leave it in the comments. I love a wide variety of music, so please do not hesitate to suggest anything at all! Jazz, reggae, rock, pop, electronic, classical, instrumental, whatever! 
> 
> And as ever, tons of love and adoration from me for reading my little stories and for making my heart sing with your time and your attention. xoxox


	14. Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they. . . ummm. . . well, read it and you'll see!

To clear their heads, they took a walk through the Commons. Friday night theater and dinner crowds already packed the streets along with the traffic of people leaving for the end of the day. Arm in arm, they quietly made their way through the park as gas lamps flickered over the historic district.

“What will you tell Sanderson?” Jane finally got up the courage to ask.

“I’ll tell him I got a better offer,” Sylvie grinned wolfishly and Jane rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

“I hope so,” Jane sighed. “When are you going to tell him?”

“Dunno,” Sylvie sucked in her lip and gave Jane a sideways glance. “Maybe next week?”

“Not until then? Why wait so long?” Jane gasped. Sylvie laughed. “Oh, I get it you’re torturing me. Fine, I deserve it. Only please tell me you will call him. Promise?”

“Promise?”

“Yes, promise me.”

“You want me to promise you I’ll call and decline his offer as your assistant? Or. . . as something else for some other reason.” They’d stopped in front of an old church. Wandering into the churchyard, they found a seat on a stone bench.

“You are not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Very well,” Jane lowered her voice. She removed her glove so when she touched Sylvie’s face, she feltl it with her skin. "I want you to keep your job here, yes, but I want you to stay with me as something else and for other reasons.”

“You’re shivering,” Sylvie observed and wrapped her arms around Jane.

“Yeah,” Jane sighed and nestled her face into the warm crook of Sylvie’s neck.

“Are you cold?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you scared?”

Jane nodded. “There’s a lot of moving parts to this thing.”

“I know.”

“I’ve got to cancel my trip. I can’t go away now.”

“What? Fuck that, Jane! Do you know how many hours I put into arranging that tour? Talk about moving parts. You are not cancelling your trip.” Sylvie snorted a laugh.

Jane clutched Sylvie’s hands. “Well, what am I going to do? I can’t just leave you, not now. I won’t. I’ll at least cancel the trip to see Toni in Seattle. . . and. . . you’ll just have to come with me.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“On your lecture circuit?” Sylvie narrowed her eyes and considered Jane’s proposition.

“Yes! Why not?” Jane beamed, clearly thrilled with her idea.

“As your assistant?”

“Hmmm. . . well, that and as my uhhmmm, companion?” She bit her lip and blinked bashfully.

“Your companion?” Sylvie cackled. “Oh my gosh, what is this 1920?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know all the terms, the words. This is all new for me.” Her face broke Sylvie’s heart with how rapidly it went from joy to complete crestfallen embarrassment. Sylvie wiggled closer on the bench.

“Nono, it’s adorable. You’re adorable.”

“Maybe I’m too old and inexperienced. Maybe I can’t do this. You’ll want someone younger who knows things that I don’t,” Jane was flustered, shaking and talking fast. Sylvie shushed her.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I want you, Jane,” Sylvie touched the little sliver of Jane’s neck above where her crimson scarf was wrapped.

“But, what if you don’t? I mean, I’ve never even kissed a girl before.”

“Well, technically that’s not entirely true, you know,” Sylvie muttered and they both simultaneously cringed at the thought of their aborted first kiss, at the fight, and the weeks of silence after that horrid party.

“You know what I mean.” Jane sighed.

“Well at least let’s correct that,” Sylvie moved her face closer.

“What? Here? Now?” Jane gasped.

“Unless you have an objection,” Sylvie whispered, but her lips were already kissing Jane’s chin, her jaw, her cheek.

“No objection whatsoever,” Jane murmured just as their lips met in a lovely blossoming of silky warmth that opened and deepened easily and naturally. Jane knitted her fingers into the hair at the back of Sylvie’s neck and Sylvie’s hand found its way into Jane’s coat to caress her waist. Sylvie pulled out of the kiss first, and found Jane’s lips parted in a slight, sweet smile, her eyes still closed, and head tipped back as if she wanted or expected more. What other choice did Sylvie have, but to press her mouth once more to Jane’s lovely, full lips? It surprised her pleasantly when this second kiss elicited not only a soft moan from Jane, but also an urgent tug at the lapel of Sylvie’s coat. Jane nibbled Sylvie’s bottom lip with an “Mmmphhfff,” that made Sylvie instantly wet and dizzy.

“Easy there, Tiger,” Sylvie chuckled and pulled away.

“Was it okay?” Jane whispered, eyes still closed.

“It was perfect,” Sylvie spoke quietly and so close to Jane that her lips tickled Jane’s earlobe.

“Why did you stop,” Jane clutched at Sylvie’s coat, pulling her closer.

“Well, I’d prefer not to get arrested for public indecency, which is where this is headed if we continue as such, Jane.”

“Oh,” Jane giggled and put her hand in front of her mouth in a charmingly girlish manner. “Well we should go close up the office anyway, I suppose.”

They found their way back to the office building. Mercifully, they were alone in the elevator. Jane reached for Sylvie’s fingers and they touched one another just gently and lightly.

“Jane?”

“Mmmh?”

“You know I’m in love with you, yeah?”

“Yeah, Syl. I love you too.” They were both staring straight ahead. Jane turned and pulled Sylvie so she turned to face her. “I mean I’m in love with you too.”

The elevator doors opened and they let go.


	15. Pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is more kissing.

Sylvie wandered between the formal sitting room, the den, the dining room, and the kitchen as Jane selected and opened a bottle of wine. Jane’s scruffy, small dog followed Sylvie as if curiously monitoring her every move. “Who’s a good girl?” Sylvie cooed and the dog sat and thumped her tail. “That’s right, you are!” She bent and scratched her fuzzy ears.

“Did you say something?” Jane called from the kitchen.

“I’m talking to Frida,” Sylvie called back.

“Oh? What are you girls gossiping about?”

“None of your beeswax,” Sylvie laughed and winked at her canine companion. “Isn’t that right, Frida? Yes. Yes it is!” The dog leapt up against her legs for more affection which Sylvie gladly gave, then continued her exploration. She ran her finger over the glossy, cool surface of a baby grand piano. “Who plays the piano?” She asked upon arrival back in the kitchen.

“That would be me,” Jane said. “I don’t practice as I should anymore. It’s too much of a challenge with all the travel I do now.”

“How did I not know this about you?” Sylvie grinned as she took a glass of red wine from Jane.

“I imagine there are lots of things we don’t know about one another,” Jane shrugged and they clinked their glasses together. “For example, I did not know you were such a dog person.” She gave a little nod at Frida who still trailed behind Sylvie, her little nails clicking on the kitchen tile.

“Well, here’s to getting to know all the things,” Sylvie said. She felt shy suddenly. Being in Jane’s world was nothing short of intimidating. It was posh and dynamic. It had dimensions of being simultaneously very lived in and untouched, like a museum. Sylvie sipped her wine as they made their way into the den and settled on the couch. Frida curled up on a plush dog bed in the corner of the room. When Sylvie looked up from the snoozing pup, she saw a rather large, ornately framed photo of Jane and her husband on a rather large, well-appointed sailboat. It glared at her.

“Everything alright, Little One,” Jane murmured.

“Yep,” Sylvie tried to smile and shifted her focus back to the elegant woman beside her. Jane had changed from her work attire into black yoga pants and a sage green, oversized shirt which slipped off her shoulder. She looked soft and effortless, but somehow still immaculately put together. Sylvie put a hand on Jane’s knee and then put it back in her own lap.

“Hey,” Jane said and frowned. “Are you having second thoughts?” She set her glass on the coffee table and angled her body toward Sylvie.

“No,” Sylvie exhaled. Her eyes flickered between the boat picture and Jane’s worried face. “It’s just, umm. . .”

“What? Tell me. You can tell me anything, please.”

Sylvie took a deep breath and said, “Does your husband keep any guns in the house?”

Jane laughed and rolled her eyes. “You’re worried Harold is going to come home and shoot you?” She asked and Sylvie nodded. “No. None, in addition to the fact he’s exceptionally nonviolent and halfway around the world until the end of the month.” She took Sylvie’s glass and placed it next to hers on the table so she could hold Sylvie’s hands. “What else?”

“Does he have drones watching the house? Like is he gonna see my car in the drive way and come after me?”

“I never figured you for the paranoid type, Syl, but no. We are not under any covert surveillance.” She sighed heavily. “Is it too much? Do you not want to be here?”

“Oh my god, I do. I do want to be here. I want to be here more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but it’s just like now that I’m here I’m really realizing that I also don’t want to be a home wrecker and you had all these reasons for not doing this, Jane. What happened to the reasons?” Sylvie shuddered as the words gushed out of her. She knew she had to say them, but she also knew she might have just popped holes in the dreamy balloon she’d just inflated. She closed her eyes and tried to memorize the feeling of Jane’s hands holding hers, of the complex, spicy floral of Jane’s perfume. If this was the final moment of the shortest love affair in history, she needed to stretch it out, make it last, etch it in her soul. To her infinite surprise, she felt Jane’s lips kissing her own, urging her mouth open. She felt Jane’s fingers tangling in her hair and coming round her back, and their breasts pressing close through the thin material of their shirts.

Miraculously, it did not feel like a kiss goodbye.

“I don’t have all the answers just now, Syl. I don’t. But all those reasons? They don’t seem to matter at the moment, okay?”

Sylvie nodded and moved closer on the couch. She put one hand on Jane’s hip and used the other one to tuck Jane’s hair behind her ear so she could see her whole face, so she could see how beautiful her sage green eyes were as they smiled at her. “Your eyes match your shirt,” she whispered and nuzzled Jane’s nose with hers. Jane glanced down as if it was her turn to feel shy. “Ah, don’t look away,” Sylvie whispered and caressed her face so she looked back up. “You’re so pretty, Jane. So pretty, so pretty so pretty,” she whispered with smiling lips as she kissed all over her face.

“I can’t remember the last time anyone told me that,” Jane’s lips moved upon Sylvie’s.

“Then I’m gonna tell you every day,” Sylvie slid her hand behind Jane’s neck. She loved the softness of her skin and the short cut of her bob so she could feel how delicate she truly was. “Pretty pretty girl,” she barely got out between her lips before her mouth was filled with Jane’s eager tongue. The intensity with which Jane kissed her, gave her courage to let her thumb graze the side of Jane’s breast. The sensation of warmth and softness combined with Jane moaning in her mouth made Sylvie feel she’d burst into flames. They might have kissed for minutes or hours or days. Time lost meaning. When they stopped, their lips were swollen and they were breathless.

“How is it cheating,” Jane panted softly. “It doesn’t feel like it. Why doesn’t it feel like it?”

“I don’t know,” Sylvie kissed down her neck and over her collar bones. She felt Jane’s heart race beneath her lips.

“Is it because we’re both female? Does that make it feel less real somehow?”

Sylvie sat up and moved away. With a lump in her throat she asked, “This doesn’t feel real to you?”

“No, Syl that’s not what I meant.”

“Cuz it feels pretty fucking real to me.”

“I misspoke Little One. Come here,” she gathered Sylvie back against her and fluttered her fingers over her hair. “Of course it feels real.”

“Well, what did you mean then?”

“It’s my first time, you know, like this,” Jane started and Sylvie blushed at how adorable it was to watch the typically articulate doctor fumble for words. “And I’ve just never felt anything like it. I’ve nothing in my life with which to compare it. It’s so new and I’ve never felt anything for anyone as I do for you, Sylvie.”

“Gosh you’re pretty,” Sylvie murmured because her heart was so full she didn’t really know what else to say just then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so much fun to write for. I absolutely adore you..... thank you so much for your wonderful, fun, supportive, sweet, kind feedback. xoxoxo


	16. Wait

At some point conversation distracted them from putting their lips on one another’s faces. They spoke at length about animals and various pets they’d had. As if she’d detected her species being talked about, Frida hopped out of her bed and made her way over to the couch. She jumped up and snuggled next to Sylvie. 

“You’re not supposed to be on the couch, young lady,” Jane said in a voice reserved strictly for her dog. 

“Aw, come on. Look at this mushy little face,” Sylvie exclaimed and hugged the dog against her protectively. “I think we should bring her with us on the lecture tour. She can keep me company while you’re busy being genius.” 

Jane raised her eyebrows and gasped in pretend horror. “Oh, I see how this is going to be. You two are going to gang up on me, aren’t you?” She laughed as Sylvie squished her face close to Frida’s and made puppy eyes at her. 

“Pweeeessseee?” 

“Absolutely not,” Jane giggled and pet the dog’s head before giving Sylvie a playful pat on her knee. “Frida has a delicate constitution and is not a good traveller, I’m afraid. She’d be miserable on a plane.”

“Well, then we could drive.” Sylvie was rubbing Frida’s belly. The dog had completely relaxed with its belly in the air on Sylvie’s lap. 

“Across country?”

“Sure. We’d be like Carol and Therese.”

“Who?”

“Oh my dear Lord in Lesbian Heaven! You’ve never seen Carol?” Sylvie stopped petting the dog and stared aghast at Jane who shrugged. “I mean it’s a must. I can’t believe you have never seen it.”

Jane stood and picked up their empty wine glasses. She said, “Well, I’ve never been a lesbian before,” and started for the kitchen. Sylvie gave Frida a gentle nudge off her lap and followed Jane. “I guess I have a lot to learn,” she added. In the kitchen, she looked through her wine rack and chose another bottle. Calculating a very devilish wink and grin, she flashed the label at Sylvie and said, “Is this okay? Would you say this wine has your lesbian stamp of approval?”

“Oh, look who’s being funny all of a sudden,” Sylvie sidled up to her, took the bottle from her hand, and set it on the counter. She pressed her body softly into her. Everything about Sylvie was soft and beautiful and warm, like an impressionistic painting. Jane peered up into her cyan eyes which sparkled mischievously. “I don’t know about the wine, but you definitely get my stamp of approval.”

“Yeah?” Jane looped her arms around Sylvie’s neck and suddenly felt breathless, weak in the knees. 

“Oh yeah,” Sylvie said and kissed her. The sensation of their breasts brushing against one another sent a jolt of electric desire through Jane. 

“My god but you feel good,” she murmured. “I feel like a teenager with you.”

“Mmmh, that’s so nice,” Sylvie whispered and pushed her hips against Jane, pressing her back against the counter as she kissed her. Jane suddenly remembered the night she’d fantasized in that very spot about Sylvie and another wave of unexpected arousal coursed up and down her spine, but it startled her and she stiffened. Feeling her hesitation, Sylvie backed off. “Sorry. You okay?” 

“I am,” Jane breathed and turned her attention to opening the wine. “It just feels fast. Like, are we moving too fast?” 

“I mean, we’ve been sort of having emotional foreplay and fucking each other with our eyes for months now if you ask me,” Sylvie chuckled. “But we can slow down if you need to.”

“I’m sorry, I just. . .”

“Don’t be sorry, Baby,” Sylvie said softly. “We can go at your speed.” 

“I don’t want to disappoint you or for you to get frustrated or feel like you’re waiting too long,” Jane frowned. Her chaotic desire mingled with intense anxiety and she suddenly found it hard to even make eye contact with Sylvie. Her hands shook, so she put down the wine and corkscrew and tried to hide them behind her back. 

Sylvie saw and gently took her hands from behind her back. She kissed them and held them against her chest. “I’ll happily wait for you forever,” she said. Her eyes met and held Jane’s. 

“Fucking each other with our eyes, eh?” 

“It’s just an expression,” Sylvie ducked her head, smiled crookedly, and rolled her eyes. 

“Is that what you’re doing right now? Fucking me with your eyes?” 

“No,” Sylvie said, suddenly serious. “I’m just loving you. That’s all.”


	17. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I know I've taken a ridiculous amount of chapters to describe the details of a first date, but bear with me...

Jane made a simple but delicious pasta and salad for them. It was well past ten when they put the dishes in the sink. They bundled up and took Frida for a walk. Although they were only out for a short time, it felt strange to Sylvie, as if they’d emerged from a dream into a very cold reality. She had to continuously check the urge to reach for Jane’s hand, or to put her arm around her as they walked, knowing if she did that Jane’s neighbors might see.

When they came back to the house, as soon as they got indoors and Jane unleashed the dog, Sylvie wrapped her up in an enthusiastic embrace and kissed her.

“Wow,” Jane exhaled. “What on earth did I do to deserve that?”

“Nothing and everything,” Sylvie said. “Anyway, gotta give my pretty girl a good kiss goodnight so I leave her wanting more, right?” She clicked her tongue and winked. Sylvie hadn’t taken off her coat. She grabbed her bag and dug around for her car keys.

“What? You’re leaving?”

“It’s getting late. I thought you might be tired and I should go so I don’t fall asleep on the drive home.” Sylvie explained. “I had a really nice time. Thank you so much for dinner and the wine. And of course for the cuddles.”

“Stay,” Jane said suddenly. “Yes. You should stay.”

“Wait, what? I thought, you wanted to slow down?”

“We can still be slow and mindful about things. The guest room is made up. You’ll be comfortable in there. Stay, Syl. I don’t want you to leave.”

“You know, you can be a little bossy,” Sylvie said, but she was already taking off her coat and Jane sniffed out a little relieved laugh. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty.”

“And you can be kind of bratty. You’re lucky my dog likes you,” Jane volleyed back. “We can go to brunch in the morning. There’s a really sweet place on the water I’d like to take you to. You’ll love it.”

“I don’t have any clothes with me. I’d have to go home and change first.”

“Hmmh, well, we’re about the same size. You could wear something of mine?”

Sylvie touched her forehead and blew a raspberry between her lips. “Hooo boy. Maybe I shouldn’t stay.”

“What? What did I do?” Jane’s eyes darted anxiously over Sylvie.

“Baby, first off, you are much more sleek and sophisticated than I am. I’m guessing you’re probably at least a size or two smaller than me. Second of all, I’m _not_ wearing your clothes.”

“Oh. Are they too old-looking?” Jane’s hands did that thing Sylvie found surrealistically charming where they fluttered around her neck and fussed with her hair. It was a sure tell she was flustered. They had walked back into the kitchen and Jane was filling her electric kettle to make tea.

“Jane, your clothes are gorgeous. And you never look old so shut up with that, seriously. It’s just that sometimes women have this tendency to instantly absorb one another in relationship. I’m not like that. I’m really independent. I like a lot of space, and I know you like your space too.” Sylvie picked an herbal tea from the bin of sachets Jane offered her. “I’m guessing you haven’t heard the joke about lesbians bringing a U-Haul on their first date?”

“Actually, now that you mention it, I do remember hearing about this concept and the reasoning behind it at a conference once, but it didn’t exactly entail a joke about a moving van.” Jane sighed. “I’m sorry. I should know better. It just feels so good to have you here.”

“Don’t be sorry. And if it makes you happy, I’ll take one of those new toothbrushes from that stockpile I know you have in your linen closet.”

“So you’ll stay?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” Sylvie said.

“Do you want some pajamas to borrow?” Jane asked.

“Nah, I’ll just sleep in my cami and undies. I’ll be fine.” They took their tea toward their respective rooms. Jane made sure Sylvie had a clean toothbrush and toothpaste as well as towels for her adjoining bathroom.

“I’m glad you’re here. I love having you here,” Jane said. “I’m sorry I don’t know all the rules or boundaries or things about being gay. It feels like I’m in a foreign country.”

They sat on the edge of the bed and set their tea on the bedside table. “You aren’t in a foreign country. You’re with me, the same person you’ve been with almost every day for the past two years. It’s just new, but Jane, there are no rules and to be honest, are you even gay?”

“Well, aren’t I? I mean, I’ve been falling for you and we’ve been, um, getting close,” she blushed.

Sylvie laughed. “Maybe you are, or maybe you’re just gay for me. Either way, you don’t have to do a massive overhaul of your entire cognitive structure. I love you because you’re you, and because of the way you are with me. I don’t love some super dyked up version of you. I love _you_ ,” Sylvie lowered her lips to kiss the spot on Jane’s shoulder where her shirt had slipped off.

“How is that even possible?” Jane wondered.

“I don’t know, but unless you want me to completely lose my mind, you need to say goodnight and go to your own room,” Sylvie groaned. She was dragging her lips over Jane’s neck and her hand was inching up her waist toward Jane’s breasts. “I want you so bad, Baby.”

“Oh, Sweetness, when you call me that,” Jane shivered. Sylvie allowed her thumb to brush Jane’s nipple and was rewarded by Jane nipping her neck and grabbing at her waist.

“What? When I call you Baby?” Sylvie whispered playfully.

“Yes, oh yes!” Jane whimpered and Sylvie pulled her down on the bed. Their legs entwined and Jane rubbed down on Sylvie’s thigh. She seemed eager, but uncertain, so Sylvie took Jane’s hand and slipped it up her shirt. The moment Jane felt Sylvie’s skin and the lacy border of her bra, she stiffened and pulled back. “I. . . erhh, don’t know,” she said.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Sylvie said. She nuzzled Jane’s nose and kissed her forehead. “Don’t push yourself.”

“I want to, Syl, it’s just, I’m scared too.”

“I don’t want you to be scared,” Sylvie said and put her hand over Jane’s heart. “We won’t go any further tonight.”

“I want to,” Jane said again.

“No,” Sylvie smiled. “Go to bed. Sleep on it. And tomorrow we can go have brunch and talk about the lecture tour, okay?”

Jane kissed her goodnight and left. After undressing and brushing her teeth, Sylvie climbed into bed and dimmed the lights. She turned on the tv and flipped through the channels for a bit, but nothing really captured her attention. Truthfully, the entire day had been such a roller coaster of insanely amazing surprises, starting with Jane asking her not to leave the practice, and then confessing her feelings. Part of her couldn’t believe she was even there, back in Jane’s guest room, after the most emotionally consuming first date ever. With her married boss no less. Fuck. She was keyed up and exhausted all at once.

Without even realizing it, she’d turned onto her stomach and slid a hand up her cami to play with her breasts. She slipped her other hand into her panties and bit back a sharp moan when she felt how soaked she was. It was unnatural what that woman did to her. The thought of it made her laugh into her pillow as two of her fingers easily skated over her erect nub of nerves. She imagined Jane getting ready for bed, just down the hall and she pinched her nipple and gave it a little twist. She could still smell Jane’s perfume on her; it was like she was right there, helping her. “That’s right, Baby,” Sylvie whispered, smiling against the pillow as she brought herself off on her hand. She kept at it and came a second and third time, then flopped on her back to catch her breath. Heaving a huge sigh, she said, “Well, that’s better,” clicked the television off, and fell asleep.


	18. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which. . . oh gosh, just read it, lol, you'll see.

Jane had been up for a couple hours by the time Sylvie found her in the kitchen sipping coffee and pecking away at her laptop. Frida hopped happily around Sylvie as she shuffled into the kitchen.

“Well, good morning Sleeping Beauty,” Jane smiled. Sylvie had piled her hair into a messy bun on the top of her head and without any makeup she looked fresh and very young. She yawned and smiled back at Jane. She wore a pair of black boyshort briefs and a matching black cami, over which she’d thrown an old sweatshirt of Jane’s that had been hanging on the back of the guest room door.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Sylvie said, indicating the hoodie.

“Not at all,” Jane said. “Coffee?”

“God yes,” Sylvie muttered. “How long have you been up?”

“Oh, just a little while. I have to get up to let Frida out. And then I was up so I decided to do a little work.” Jane found a mug and poured coffee for Sylvie. Knowing she took her coffee light and well sugared, she prepared it as such and gave it a stir. While she was doing this, Sylvie approached her from behind and put her hands on Jane’s waist. She kissed in between Jane’s shoulder blades and hugged her lightly. “Mmm, that feels nice,” Jane sighed and relaxed into the embrace. She rolled her head back against Sylvie. While they were roughly the same size, something about that position made Sylvie seem larger, more imposing.

“You’re really cozy in this robe,” Sylvie murmured and kissed Jane’s neck. It was nothing fancy, just a gray, flannel robe she favored for comfort over style, but she made a mental note of how it was suddenly her favorite article of clothing for the way Sylvie managed to make her feel in it. “Ah, perfect,” Sylvie sighed and reached for the mug Jane had made her.

Jane said, “Don’t let go just yet. Hold me like that, yes.”

“Of course,” Sylvie whispered. She set her coffee down and gave Jane’s earlobe a nibble. Jane turned her face to kiss Sylvie, but kept her back against Sylvie’s chest. Sylvie tasted like minty toothpaste and for a moment, Jane was conscious of the fact she tasted of coffee.

“Sorry, coffee breath,” she broke from the kiss and frowned. Sylvie huffed and rolled her eyes, grabbed her mug and took a gulp of coffee.

“There, now we’re even, ok?” She resumed kissing Jane, gently allowing her hands to wander over her curves. This time, when her hands grazed Jane’s breasts, Jane arched into them and sought more touch. And when Sylvie whimpered softly in her mouth, Jane reached back to stroke the delicate tendrils of hair on the back of Sylvie’s neck before pulling her closer. Their kiss grew heated. Sylvie’s hand rubbed Jane’s hip and Jane felt desire coil in her belly. The coffee flavor of their lips was warm and earthy. They parted only slightly to catch their breath.

“You know, I thought of you here one night when I was alone,” Jane whispered. She’d worked one of her legs out of her robe so her bare skin could rub against Sylvie’s.

“What? Here?” Sylvie’s voice was low, still gravelly with sleep. Jane felt it vibrate through her entire being.

“Right here. Right in this spot,” Jane said. She couldn’t believe what she was confessing, what she was wanting, what she was practically begging for.

“What did you think about?” She smiled against Jane’s neck. Jane could feel her lips stretching on her skin. She closed her eyes and continued with her admission.

“I thought about your eyes, how beautiful they are, about you,” Jane swallowed and took a deep breath, “about what you might look like, or how you would look at me. How you would watch me.”

“And what exactly would I have seen? What would I have watched?”

“Oh, Sylvie,” she brought Sylvie’s hands to the tie of her robe. She panted softly as Sylvie grasped it and pulled it.

“Did you touch yourself?”

“I did.”

“And you thought of me?”

“I did.”

“Right here?”

“Yes. Oh, yes,” Jane sighed as Sylvie opened her robe and caressed her through the thin material of her cotton nightie. Sylvie’s breath was hot on Jane’s neck as she kissed her and touched her breasts and belly. Jane felt almost liquid in her embrace, like she’d melt in Sylvie’s arms and evaporate.

“Is this okay?” Sylvie whispered. Jane nodded. Sylvie slipped a hand into her nightie and cupped her breast. “And this?” Again, Jane nodded. With her other hand, Sylvie began rucking up Jane’s nightie, tickling the inside of Jane’s thighs as she did. “And this?”

“Yyyesss,” Jane gulped. Sylvie’s fingers brushed over Jane’s vulva and for a moment, Jane thought her legs might go out from underneath her. In the next moment, she had a sudden fit of terror that Sylvie would touch her and find she wasn’t wet, that Sylvie would take it to mean she didn’t want her and not that sometimes her older female body just didn’t cooperate as well in these situations. But as quickly as her fear had built, it receded when Sylvie slipped her fingers in the side of her panties and crept into her folds.

“Baby,” Sylvie whispered with a little giggle. “You feel like heaven. Are you still okay?”

“Mmmmphfff,” Jane bit her lip and adjusted her feet on the floor to widen her stance.

“So was it like this? Did you touch yourself like this,” Sylvie worked her fingers down Jane’s slit and up into her for a moment, then brought back some of her slick to work up over her clit. Jane whimpered at the wild symphony of sensation, of Sylvie’s fingers in her and then on her and the slippery dance around her.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jane panted and braced herself on the counter in front of her.

“Pretty girl,” Sylvie said and stroked her. “You’re not scared?”

“No. Oh god no,” Jane trembled. “Please go on.”

“Don’t worry, Baby, I’ve got you,” Sylvie murmured and Jane shivered as Sylvie gently slid two fingers inside of her and worked her clit with her thumb. Never in her life had Jane felt anything quite like the electric heat spreading over her entire body as Sylvie curled her fingers inside her and lightly stroked her nipple. Somewhere in her mind, Jane worried maybe she wouldn’t have responded to a woman’s touch, or it would take too long and Sylvie would get bored or not like doing it to her, but neither of these things were issues in the slightest as her young lover worked up a toe curling climax.

“Oh, Syl, I’m gonna,” she gasped and turned her head back so Sylvie could collect her lips in a deep, slow kiss. “Now, uhhhhh, now!”

Sylvie pulled her back into one of the kitchen chairs held her on her lap until the very last beat of her orgasm. “You are so pretty when you come,” she grinned. Jane buried her head under Sylvie’s chin and felt her cheeks blaze. “God, don’t look away from me, Jane. Don’t ever look away. Are you okay?”

“So good,” Jane managed to exhale on a delirious chuckle. “I can’t believe you just did that to me.”

“Oh my god,” Sylvie looked suddenly stricken. “Jane, Baby, I wouldn’t have, I thought. . .”

“Nonono!” Jane put her hand on Sylvie’s lips. “It was so nice. I haven’t felt that way in such a long time. That’s all.”

“You’re alright?”

“More than. Yes.” Jane stood and got Sylvie a fresh cup of coffee. When she brought it back, she sniffed out a little laugh and said, “So much for taking it slow.”

“I mean, I’m already in love with you and have been for ages, so as far as I’m concerned that train left the station a long, long time ago.” Sylvie slurped her coffee and smiled up sheepishly at Jane.

“Syl?”

“Mmmh?”

“Umm, well, so how do I make you feel like that? Like what you just did to me?”


	19. Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jane reciprocates. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays my lovely ones!!! Can I just say I adore writing for each and every one of you so very much!!! You are such kind and generous souls and your support and feedback makes my heart soar. Thank you so much for taking the time to share this space with me. xoxoxoxo

Like everything else in Jane’s house, the sheets on the bed in her guest room were finest quality. Nothing ever felt so soft against Sylvie’s skin as the white, cotton sheets, but then there was Jane’s body, still in her nightgown, but silky and gorgeous everywhere Sylvie felt her. Sylvie started to peel the article of clothing from Jane’s body and felt her hesitation.

“What?” She stroked Jane’s cheek. “What is it?”

Jane’s foot was in between Sylvie’s ankles, nervously seeking a place to get closer. “What if you don’t like my body? I don’t look like,” she fit her hand over the curve of Sylvie’s hip. “Well, let’s just say I’m not as young and fit. What if. . .”

“Not even possible,” Sylvie reassured her. Sylvie brazenly tore off her cami and exposed her breasts to Jane who’s eyes widened. Suddenly topless, her nipples puckered in the cooler air. She pulled her hair out of its topknot and shook it over her shoulders.

“Tease,” Jane couldn’t hide her smile.

“Yup,” Sylvie beamed as she caught Jane lick her lips and inhale sharply through flared nostrils. “The way you’re looking at me right now? Now _that’s_ what we call eye fucking,” Sylvie quipped and Jane blushed. After a moment, Jane gathered the material of her nightie in her fists and took it off. Then it was Sylvie’s turn to gasp as she admired the stunning woman in bed next to her. Jane instinctively put an arm over her front, but Sylvie reached for it and pulled it down. “You took my breath away just now,” Sylvie whispered and she had to blink hard and look up so the tears that stung the corners of her eyes wouldn’t spill over. “Don’t hide yourself. Don’t ever hide yourself.”

Jane’s body was lithe and lean, but she had lovely curves over her hips and a little padding over her belly. Her breasts were smaller than Sylvie’s, but they were full and her rosy nipples faded into dusky pink areolae. Sylvie pulled Jane to her and then down onto the pillows. Jane pulled the covers up over them, but wiggled into Sylvie’s body.

“How well we fit like this,” Jane mentioned wonderingly. She seemed hesitant at first about exploring Sylvie’s naked torso with her hands, but rubbed up and down her back in a way that made Sylvie hum with pleasure. When her fingers grazed the fleshy sides of Sylvie’s full breasts, Jane’s breath hitched. Sylvie helped her by holding her tight and rubbing their breasts together. “So soft,” Jane sighed.

“Yeah,” Sylvie caressed Jane’s hip and ass and started trying to extract her from her panties while kissing her sloppily. Jane took the cue and brought her hands to Sylvie’s underwear and gingerly tugged them over their hips. Sylvie thrilled at Jane’s firm touch on her backside. Without realizing it, she’d managed to get one of Jane’s thighs in between her legs and moved contentedly against it with a groan of pure glee. “You feel better than anything!”

“I don’t know what to do,” Jane whispered and Sylvie felt her hands ball into fists on her back.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sylvie breathed. “Just be with me. Oh, god Jane just be with me like this!” It was no use trying to restrain herself; feeling Jane naked and warm and silky beside her overpowered. Every nerve ending of every single fantasy she’d had about Jane for months was ablaze in that very instant. When she was able to focus her eyes, and find Jane’s gorgeous, green gaze, she saw her expression was a mix of bemused adoration. “I just want you so much,” she whimpered and licked Jane’s bottom lip. “Is it too much? Am I too much?” The effort of their breathing made their nipples brush together.

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” Jane smiled and brushed the hair off Sylvie’s face. “May. . . may I touch you?”

“I’m yours. Yes, please!” Sylvie moaned and rolled onto her back. Jane sat up on her elbow and looked down over Sylvie’s body. Her hand lingered only momentarily over Sylvie’s breast before cupping it in her palm and exploring its weight and texture. Sylvie watched her touch the erect balls of her nipples with curious fingertips, and keened in delight when Jane rolled them gently between her thumbs and forefingers. Sylvie’s eyes rolled back in her head as Jane did the exact thing she wished for next- to lower her mouth over one of her breasts, kiss around the lavender areola and then take the darkened bud of her nipple between her lips. She didn’t want to swear while something so completely holy was happening to her, but it felt so wildly intense, a stream of profanities had to be bit back and swallowed deep in her throat. Instead, she cried out and writhed in the sheets. “More, more!” She begged and Jane obliged, climbing on top of Sylvie’s desperate body so she could lavish her attention back and forth between her breasts.

With Jane on top of her, Sylvie was perfectly able to find a position in which she could grind herself against Jane’s legs, her hip, her vulva. And although she’d already made Jane come in the kitchen, she suddenly became aware of wanting to adore her just as she was being adored. Her hands sought Jane’s beautiful breasts, gripped the firm muscle of Jane’s gorgeous ass, and worked their way in between their legs.

“No Syl, just you just now,” Jane mumbled as she came up from her breasts and kissed her lips. “I want to make you feel good,” she sighed and her coffee scented breath on Sylvie’s face was a benedictine. “I want to do it for you, Sweetness. I’m scared I don’t know how.”

“Awwhhww you’re already doing it,” Sylvie panted and moved against Jane’s leg. Honestly, Jane could have sat in a chair across the room and read a cook book and Sylvie still would have come completely untouched, but that wasn’t the case. Sylvie felt Jane’s trembling fingers plunge between their legs and seek to stroke Sylvie’s seriously aroused clit. “Fuck, Baby, fuck,” she whined and forgot to feel bad about swearing because Jane was giggling against her neck.

It was all clit when she came, and it was so startling and sensational Sylvie almost screamed. It felt like the first orgasm she’d ever had and it was inexplicably sweet and in that sweetness was a power and connection that brought her to tears in Jane’s arms.

“Are you okay?” Jane asked as she held her and petted her back. “Did it feel okay?”

“Jaaaayyyneee,” Sylvie sobbed and nestled into her breast and kissed her repeatedly. “It was amazing. You’re amazing. I swear that felt like my first time ever.” Her heart raced and she babbled as she threaded her legs into Jane’s and tried to make her hands gentle enough to trace the lines of her face, but her body still felt completely wild. “I’ve just wanted this for so long. I love you. I love you. I love you. I fucking love you so much.”

Jane pressed her forehead against Sylvie’s, but they kept their eyes open. She pressed a hand on Sylvie’s back and another over her heart and breathed steadily until Sylvie’s body followed suit. “Better?” She whispered with a little kiss on Sylvie’s nose. Sylvie nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Sylvie said, suddenly mortified.

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for, my Sweetness?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to get so feral there. You’re just so pretty,” Sylvie shrugged and tried to hide her blushing face.

“Hey, we don’t hide, remember?” Jane put a finger under Sylvie’s chin and tipped her face back up. “And you have nothing to feel sorry about. Nothing. Human intimacy should have an edge of wildness to it and you were incredibly beautiful.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmh, plus I can honestly say I’ve never had that effect on anyone in bed before so it really is quite flattering,” Jane sighed with a smile Sylvie could only describe as _cheeky._

“I find that impossible to believe,” Sylvie scoffed. She stroked up and down Jane’s side and found a comfortable place to rest her head on Jane’s breast.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like to go to brunch now?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Nope,” Sylvie sighed and wrapped a possessive arm over Jane’s waist. “I just want to lie here and listen to your heart beat.”

“Oh, Little One,” Jane breathed and Sylvie could tell she was smiling even without looking. “You are just one exquisite surprise after another.” Her words made Sylvie smile too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed that??? LMK?


	20. Reality

Jane had never dashed into a freezing ocean on New Year’s Day, but she imagined the sensation of a Polar Plunge would feel like thousands of needles simultaneously and unpleasantly jabbing every inch of her flesh. After spending a weekend with Sylvie, the phone call from Harold felt like such an assault to her senses. It was jarring, disorienting. She was just glad Sylvie had already left when he rang. It crossed her mind to let it go to voicemail, but out of habit she answered. 

“Hello Lovey,” his familiar voice sounded jovial and fatigued. 

“Hi. Hello. How’s London?” Jane tried to remember what she was supposed to sound like when she spoke with her husband. She hoped she didn’t sound strange. She honestly couldn’t tell. 

“Oh, I suppose it’s just ticketyboo as they say,” he sighed.

“They don’t actually say that, do they?”

“You’d be surprised,” he muttered with a wry laugh. “What have you been up to this weekend?” 

Jane had wandered into the kitchen, and she glanced at the two wine glasses sitting side by side on her counter. She’d done all the other dishes, but hadn’t the heart to wash the imprint of Sylvie’s lips off the glass she drank from. So, it sat, next to hers. “Not much,” she cleared her throat because the lie tasted so bitter she was certain she’d vomit. “I spent some time with my assistant.”

“Ahh, planning the junket?”

“Yes. That and we had brunch. Girl stuff. You know,” Jane fought to make her voice sound casual and carefree. 

“Girl stuff? Since when do you do girl stuff?” Harold laughed. He was only being fond, but Jane prickled. “And isn’t your assistant like half your age? I can’t imagine you’d have a lot in common.” 

“Half my age? No, she’s not as young as that, thank you very much, Harry.” She paced the length of the kitchen. Frida, sensing her agitation, followed closely at her heels. “She’s quite bright actually. I’ve decided to bring her with me on the circuit this time around.”

“Sounds good. It’ll be nice for you to have a young set of hands to help out. Those things do seem to drain you.” 

“Do they?” Jane found herself more perturbed by the moment. She got off the phone as quickly and gracefully as she could and threw on her coat and scarf. “Frida, come,” she said. The sensitive creature’s ears perked at the slightly gruffer tone in her mistress’s voice. Jane softened her expression and patted her thigh. Assured all was well, Frida trotted happily over and allowed herself to be leashed for a walk. 

Jane led them out into the wooded trails along the river beyond her house. She walked at a brisk clip until she realized her lungs stung and the dog was panting. She slowed her pace and allowed Frida to sniff the mossy roots of an old tree. Part of her wanted to call someone up and tell them how peeved she was with her husband, but she couldn’t, because if she did she’d have to mention she’d cheated on him. And not only had she cheated on him, but she’d been unfaithful with her young assistant. It was certainly unethical in addition to being immoral. 

At the crux, she wasn’t even angry with Harold. 

Harold wasn’t a bad man, and he certainly had never been a bad husband. He was generous and kind. He respected her intelligence and gave her space and freedom to run her practice, teach her courses, and travel for lectures as she pleased. Never once had he asked or expected her to be anything traditional or other than what she was. When she’d published her first book, he’d beamed with pride and bragged about her endlessly to the point it became embarrassing. He’d sat by her side through years of infertility and miscarriages and never once suggested he’d desire someone else who could give him what Jane could not. And Jane knew he didn’t stay out of sheer obligation; he stayed because he loved and cared for her and for the life they’d crafted together. 

He was a good man, an honest and indulgent husband. He just wasn’t Sylvie. 

The weight of it made her want to cry. She gave a little tug on Frida’s leash and led them back to her house, all the while trying to remember what it had felt like to do those things with Sylvie, things that didn’t feel wrong at all. She sought through the ribbons of her mind to suck Sylvie’s lower lip, to feel Sylvie’s fingers stirring up quick and easy pleasure, to roll the bead of Sylvie’s perfect nipple between her lips. “Syl,” she whispered and her breath puffed out a cloud in the cold air in front of her. 

In her kitchen she went straight to the sink and stared at the glasses. She lifted Sylvie’s and turned it over in her hand. She admired the pale pink crescent of lipstick left on the rim. She raised it to her own lips and fitted them over the print, sniffing as she did the tiny waft of dried fermentation at the bottom of the glass.


	21. Galaxy

Sylvie got to the office early to get a head start on booking herself into Jane’s trip. She also decided a formal letter would be the more professional route for declining Sanderson’s extremely generous job offer.

“I must be insane,” she huffed under her breath as she watched the printer spit out the letter. Sanderson’s practice had offered to pay for the remainder of her doctoral program, which had been more or less on permanent pause while she devoted so much time to Foster, Inc. They had also offered her competitive salary and benefits in addition to ongoing professional development. And they were going to allow her to start seeing patients and foot the bill for her supervision so she could work toward licensure. She folded the letter with a wry smile. It was flattering. They’d seen her potential and they’d offered her the sun, moon, and stars.

But they couldn’t offer her Jane.

There was a solid probability she was bungling her career to appease her heart, but after finally holding, kissing, and touching the woman with whom she was besotted, she couldn’t walk away. She’d insure herself by making a graceful and gracious exit to keep her name clean and preserve future assets for networking.

She caught herself thinking this, not knowing what would happen with Jane but knowing what she wanted so very much to happen with Jane.

Her hands were cold and she couldn’t seem to warm them no matter how busy she kept. She felt slightly queasy as she waited for Jane to show up at the office. She’d picked her phone up and set it back down about a hundred times, checking for texts and trying to decide whether or not she should text her. Ultimately, she waited jittering impatiently at her desk, while trying to focus on scheduling. She’d actually succeeded in sinking her brain into a task so successfully that she didn’t even hear Jane sidle up to her door.

“Good morning,” Jane purred.

Sylvie bounced in her seat. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a light step?”

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she smiled and her eyebrows did that little thing where they met in the middle of her forehead, as if asking a question.

“It’s okay-“

“How are you-“

They both spoke at once and exhaled anxious little laughs. Jane stepped into Sylvie’s office and shut the door. As soon as Sylvie heard the door click closed, she sprang out of her seat and wrapped her arms around Jane. Jane dropped her bags to the floor and tangled her fingers in Sylvie’s hair. “I knew I missed you,” Sylvie uttered. “But I didn’t even know how much until I saw you just now, and then it’s like it hit me.”

“Sweetness, you’re shaking,” Jane murmured and her hands fluttered around Sylvie’s face. Sylvie caught and held them.

“No, you are,” she laughed and their lips came together.

“Will you look at us,” Jane said softly. “Like a couple kids who can’t keep their hands off each other.”

“Mmmh, yeah, well, I’m gonna make a mess of this pretty lipstick you’ve put on if you’re not careful,” Sylvie said.

“I don’t think I could care about that if I tried! It’s not even nine in the morning and I want you already,” Jane’s voice was low and wondrous. “I’m drunk with it,” she slipped her hands up and down Sylvie’s back.

“I’m pretty sure we should keep that activity confined to outside the office,” Sylvie said but she gave Jane’s lower lip a little lick as she said it and Jane whimpered. “Plus we have a busy day. You’re more or less back to back so that we can get you out of here in time to go to Seattle for your time off before the tour.”

“Oh, no, I am going to cancel Seattle,” Jane said and let go of Sylvie. She tried to say it casually, but Sylvie wasn’t fooled. It was her turn to raise questioning eyebrows as she watched Jane straighten her hair. “I just don’t think it’s good timing.”

“Please tell me you aren’t cancelling because of me,” Sylvie said.

“No, not exactly.” Jane plucked a tissue out of the box on the corner of Sylvie’s desk and patted her lips with it.

“Jane, you have to go see your friend. Your life can’t stop because we did, uhhmmh, whatever it was we did.”

Jane’s eyes snapped to Sylvie. “ _Whatever it was we did_?” She asked.

“Well you know,” Sylvie started, got flustered, and started playing with the ends of her hair.

“Gosh, no, I don’t really know,” Jane sighed. “Are you saying it didn’t mean something?”

“No! Are you crazy?” Sylvie took Jane’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Look at me. I’m a lovesick fool and I have been for you for ages. Being with you meant everything to me. But you’ve got to admit we’re in a bit of a sticky situation here. You’re a brilliant doctor and I know you have more than enough prefrontal cortex to realize there are no simple concrete effects for what we undertook in a very wonderful and amazing albeit abstract way. Right?”

“Of course,” Jane nodded but she looked as though someone had sucked all the air out of her.

“I just think we should hang on to parts of ourselves, so we don’t get lost,” Sylvie pulled Jane into her body. “Because I could so easily get lost in you. I’d get lost and I’d never find my way back.”

Jane smiled and slid her hand behind Sylvie’s neck. Sylvie closed her eyes and felt the warmth of her touch. “I wouldn’t want that, Little One. I wouldn’t ever want to lose you, not even in me.” She kissed the tip of Sylvie’s nose.

“Plus you’re going to want to let absence make your heart grow fonder for me when you find out what I did this morning,” Sylvie said with a sly, sideways look. Jane looked at her with questioning encouragement. She took off her coat and took a seat on the couch in the sitting area of Sylvie’s office. “Okay, well, you know I have this friend Ben from grad school? And he’s in Berkeley now, which also happens to be our first stop on your lecture tour.”

“And?”

“He has a thriving practice there. Like, he’s brilliant and you’ll love him. But he’s got a case he really needs an expert consult on, Jane.” Sylvie gaged Jane’s reaction which was little more than an inhalation and crossing of her legs. “I wouldn’t have even considered it, except, well, when you hear the details, you won’t be able to say no either.”

“What are the details?”

“Three year old female, in witness protection.”

“What?”

“She is the only surviving witness to some kind of horrendous incident, and beyond that we can’t really know more until we agree to take the case. But by all accounts the child was on track developmentally prior to the event and has completely stopped developing and is virtually catatonic. They’re at the end of their line.” Sylvie paused to catch her breath. “I mean, I can still tell Ben no if you really don’t want to, but Jane, I thought about it, and I really thought this could be one for the books. If you could help this child, and I have no doubt you can, just think about it.”

“Syl, I don’t have to think about it,” Jane sighed. She gave her lap a little pat with her hands and shook her head. “Gosh, it’s terrible what people do to children. So, so young,” she mused.

“So, is that a no?”

“Oh, no, that is a definite yes. You had me at three year old.” Jane’s smile was genuine for Sylvie, but it was still sad because she was clearly still thinking about the child in California. “You know I can’t resist the tiny ones, don’t you, Sweetness?”

“I sort of had a suspicion,” Sylvie grinned.

“Well, you can tell your friend I will see the child and make any recommendations if I am able. And we will do it out of our pro bono grant, mmh? But on one condition.”

“And what would that condition be?” Sylvie slid onto the couch next to Jane.

“You’ll assist me every step of the way,” Jane’s smile was more sparkly and less sad now. “And you’ll schedule some time for us to meet this week before I go to Seattle so we can redefine your position here. I think it’s high time we put your brilliant mind to better use than just taking biopsychosocial information and booking my referrals.”

“Jane, you don’t have to do that,” Sylvie started.

“Oh, yes I absolutely do.” Jane put an arm over the back of the couch and touched Sylvie’s neck. “You turned down an incredible offer, and I will not keep you here unless I offer you everything they did and more, at the very least.”

“I mean, I’d sort of just be happy with the good morning kisses?”

“We can sneak some of those. But you deserve a few more fringes and benefits than that. And I want to be very clear these two things are separate, our personal and professional. I’ll make a contract and make it official. You think of a title you'd like and order some new business cards. You’ve a magnificent mind and we can put it to use however you want.” Jane had a worried expression and Sylvie gave her chin a little pinch. “What? What is it?”

“You’re just so fucking hot when you’re offering me all this and heaven too,” Sylvie whispered. She devoured Jane’s lips, leaving little hope for her lipstick. They kissed until they were breathless and when they stopped, they rested with their foreheads together. Sylvie opened her eyes to find Jane looking intently at her. She was so close. Her eyes were an entire, glittering galaxy.


	22. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we discover if absence really does make the heart grow fonder. . .

Sylvie spotted Jane the moment she entered the hotel lobby. From a discreet perch on a nearby sofa, she watched Jane check in at the front desk. A short conversation ensued, and Jane turned to make her way to the bank of gleaming, bronze elevators. It was then she spied Sylvie. 

Sylvie held her position on the couch, but couldn’t conceal the massive grin that stretched over her face. Jane approached and joy flooded her entire body as if she’d just taken a big gulp of cinnamon whiskey. 

“Hey Pretty,” she drawled as she gazed up at the lanky woman in the crisp, black suit and white, silk shirt. 

“Hello you,” Jane smiled and tucked her short, golden hair behind her ears. Sylvie stood.

“So, how do we do this? Do we shake hands or can we hug?”

Jane extended her hand to Sylvie and Sylvie took it to shake, but Jane pulled her into a warm embrace. “Good god I missed you. You look good enough to eat,” she breathed her words into Sylvie’s ear and Sylvie felt a puddle accumulate between her legs. “Let’s go up, mmh?” 

“Fuck yes,” Sylvie murmured and they made their way to the elevators. “My room is on the seventh floor and yours is on the tenth,” she explained. Jane’s eyes darted in a little annoyed manner to the side. They had bickered about booking separate rooms. Jane had wanted Sylvie to stay in the same suite as her, but Sylvie’s common sense prevailed. 

“Your place or mine, then?” Jane asked, but she pressed the button for floor ten. Sylvie had booked an almost ostentatious suite for Jane, complete with a bouquet of wildflowers, and she was excited to see it. Once they got to the room, however, they had eyes only for one another and the suite could have been a cardboard box for all they cared. They were breathless and clumsy, eager to touch and recall one another all at once. 

When the porter knocked on the door, Sylvie was hungrily gathering Jane’s plaintive moans in her mouth as they kissed. It was almost impossible to stop and allow Jane to straighten her clothes in order to open the door. Sylvie had never seen Jane be rude before, but she practically shoved the porter out the door after tipping him and closed the door in his face when he was in the middle of trying to say something about concierge and spa services the hotel offered.

“Someone’s thirsty,” Sylvie laughed. Jane kicked off her heels and pranced back toward her. Jane said nothing. She grabbed Sylvie around her waist and pulled her into a kiss, which was now slower, more deliberate. 

“I need to feel you, Syl,” she whispered and started unbuttoning Sylvie’s blouse. “I need to feel you now.”

“Yeah,” Sylvie murmured and unhooked the clasp of Jane’s skirt. It fell easily around her ankles and was met soon thereafter by Sylvie’s blouse and trousers. Jane’s fingers plundered impulsively into Sylvie’s panties as Sylvie tried to focus on extricating Jane from her shirt and walking them toward the bed. The moment Jane felt Sylvie’s slippery arousal, she whimpered and bit Sylvie’s lower lip. Onto the bed they tumbled, touching and kissing endlessly. 

It was fast and impetuous and it took longer for them to catch their breath after the fact than it did for them to actually bring one another through stunning climaxes. “You’re so good,” Jane kissed Sylvie’s forehead. “You make me feel so so good.” Sylvie could only smile and snuggle closer in response.


	23. Hypnotic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we've had 2K hits on this little story! Thanks so much for spending time with me here. I appreciate your comments and support more than you could possibly guess. xoxoxoxo

The hotel room was dark. 

Even with her eyes open, Jane couldn’t see anything. They were awake, but quiet, just floating on their breath, holding one another in the love warmed covers. Jane’s hands slowly explored Sylvie’s curves, stroked over the little bumps of her spine, worshipped the cushion of her bum. After making love, her body was so sensitive, so receptive to every little touch and Jane felt crazy for the way she shivered beneath her fingers. 

Everything about them felt like a primal secret had been uncoiled and wrapped around their bodies in silken ribbons. Sylvie’s body soaked up Jane’s caresses, as if they became a part of her very skin. 

On their sides, they faced one another in the velvety darkness. Sylvie let out a little sigh and put her hand on Jane’s hip. Her only desire to be closer, Jane wiggled forward and their legs entwined. She’d been fully sated and was pleasantly exhausted, but a thrill shot through her when Jane felt Sylvie’s nipples graze hers. Whimpering, Jane pressed her chest into Sylvie’s and felt the soft collision of their breasts. Idly, Sylvie took one of her own breasts in hand and rubbed it against Jane’s. Their nipples perked and pebbled against one another. Sylvie pressed her nipple into Janes and pinched them together in her cool fingers. She began moving against Jane’s thigh. 

“Baby,” she whispered. “I’m gonna come again.”

“Yes, Sweetness,” Jane said with little kisses over her face. 

“Do you want to put your fingers inside me?”

Jane reached between their legs and curled two fingers well and deep into Sylvie, the way she’d learned Sylvie liked. Sylvie continued undulating, and the softness of their breasts was nearly hypnotic. “I want this,” Jane murmured as she felt Sylvie clench around her. “I wanted this so much.” 

They fell soundly asleep after, tangled in one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone recently mentioned to me they preferred shorter chapters. . . soooo, here ya go! xoxoxo.


	24. Bourbon

Jane felt Sylvie watch her as she dropped ice into her glass and poured a couple fingers of bourbon. She made one for Sylvie also without asking whether or not she wanted one, or even if she enjoyed bourbon. Sylvie accepted the glass and they clinked them, but it was rather subdued.

“I didn’t know you were a bourbon kind of gal,” Sylvie said taking a tentative sip of her drink. 

“Needs must,” Jane sighed. She toed off her heels and sank onto the bed. Folding her legs beneath her, she leaned against the headboard. “Bourbon is a strong drink to make me feel strong after a difficult day.”

Sylvie set her glass on the bedside table and curled up with her head on the pillow at Jane’s elbow. “Yeah, that consult was pretty harsh. I’ll give you that,” she took a deep breath and Jane felt her exhalation on her forearm. Something about Sylvie’s life force gracing her flesh felt like an absolute gift. She glanced down into Sylvie’s bright, blue eyes. They were so full of love and light, contrary to the flat, dull eyes of the child she’d sat with that afternoon. Over the course of her career, Jane had assessed and consulted on hundreds of traumatized children, but she’d never seen anything quite like the little one they’d worked with that day. She reached for Sylvie’s hand and was quickly rewarded with a warm squeeze.

“Some cases get under your skin, no matter how long you are at this,” she said. “I hate feeling helpless, like I have nothing to offer.”

“Hey,” Sylvie sat up and touched Jane’s chin. “You were amazing today. You gave some really concrete interventions. The referral for a scan for traumatic brain injury was brilliant, although how that one got past them I’m not sure.”

“We’ll see,” Jane smiled. “Do you mind if we just do dinner in the room tonight? I’m a bit drained.”

“Of course,” Sylvie said. “We have like six more cities, so we have to keep you fresh. I’ll draw you a bath while we wait for food.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s the least I can do after dragging you into that mess today. I should never have asked you to do that consult when you already had so much on your plate.”

“Mmmmh, come here,” Jane murmured. She put down her glass and pulled Sylvie into her arms. “I’d do just about anything for you. I didn’t mind it. This is part of the job and I will be absolutely fine. I just need to give my brain a little rest.” Sylvie’s hair tickled Jane's mouth and she brushed it away from her face, stirring up the lovely scent of her shampoo and perfume in the process. “Anyway, I enjoyed seeing you with your friend and watching you work,” she added with a kiss on Sylvie’s brow.

“Well you were incredible with that kid. I know she didn’t say anything, but she really responded to you, Jane. I don’t think I ever realized how great you are with little guys. You would have been an awesome mom. Did you ever want to have children?”

There it was. The question. No matter how many times it was asked (and it always inevitably was asked), and no matter who asked it, it always made her flounder for words, always made her feel inadequate. There really was no simple or polite way to explain the grief, anger, and despair of your own body betraying you by not doing the one thing it was biologically designed to do. So she answered Sylvie as she always did, with a sad smile and, “I did want to. And I couldn’t.”

But because Sylvie was Sylvie, she did not respond in the same shuffling, awkward manner of most people who asked. Rather than mumble an apology and brush it away, Sylvie sat up and stared intensely at her. “Shit, Baby, shit,” she said. “I had no fucking clue and I’m such an ass for being so insensitive.”

“It’s okay,” Jane offered graciously.

“No it’s absolutely not okay. It’s the worst thing ever and you don’t have to pretend it’s not with me. Don’t do that. It’s just. . .”

“Hmm? What?”

“Well, I want to know whatever you want to tell me. Like I want to know all of it. But if you also just don’t ever want to talk about it again, I can do that too. Okay?” She picked up Jane’s hand and kissed it a bunch of times.

“We tried for a lot of years,” Jane said. “We tried really hard. We did the whole IVF thing. It was me. My body didn’t cooperate. By the time we’d finished trying, I was too exhausted to do the adoption route. I’d had a hemorrhage during my last miscarriage and it was physically very difficult. It took me a long time to recover and it just left me really tired.”

“Do you regret not adopting?”

“No. I don’t,” Jane laced her fingers on her stomach and shrugged. “It’s strange. I don’t usually talk about it. I went to therapy for years over it and then I just sort of put it away. Harold and I never talk about it. Never ever.”

“How does it feel to talk about it now?”

“With you? It actually feels nice, Syl.” She laughed softly. “It’s like you have this secret, little keychain and you unlock all these dark doors in me and just let yourself in and have a good look around where no one else has ever been.”

“Oh, yikes. Am I that pushy?”

“No. Not at all. It’s like I’ve been waiting my entire life to let someone in here,” she took Sylvie’s hand and placed it on her chest. “And now, I couldn’t keep you out even if I wanted to. And I really don’t want to. I want you in every part of me all the time.” Jane’s own words surprised her even as she saw how they delighted Sylvie. Sylvie’s sweet face and full lips exploded into a radiant smile and she leaned down to nibble Jane’s mouth until they were kissing so deep and for so long, they forgot what had even led them to that stunning space.


	25. Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are a bunch of feelings. . .

Sylvie stood and watched Jane sign books after one of her lectures. Jane did not enjoy signing books and initially, it had not been part of the plan for this stop, but the department chair was an old friend and a complete sweetie so Jane agreed.

Sylvie smiled to herself, as she watched the most beautiful woman in the world gently opening books, smiling up at strangers, and softly signing her name in the pages. She’d once done the same for Sylvie, years ago. Sylvie had been utterly captivated by Jane’s hands, how they appeared both strong and delicate. She still wore the simple, gold wedding band on her left hand and nothing on her right hand. Her wrists were flexible and expressive. Frequently, Jane used her hands as she spoke, putting Sylvie in mind of a dancer.

“You’re her assistant?”

The voice startled Sylvie from gazing at her crush. Shaking herself from her trance, she focused on a young woman in a sleeveless dress that revealed colorfully tattooed arms. The woman’s eyes were dazzling, pale gray with dark rings around the outside of her irises, and speckles of silver close to her pupils. Her hair hung in curls down to her waist. She held one of Jane’s books and regarded Sylvie with a friendly expression.

“Yeah,” Sylvie croaked. The woman seemed an exotic, extremely gorgeous apparition. “I am Dr. Foster’s assistant. Sylvie Greene.” She extended her hand and the young woman shook it warmly.

“Lucky lady,” the woman, who had yet to introduce herself sighed as she looked back and forth between where Jane sat at the table, and Sylvie.

“I know, right?” Sylvie chuckled. She figured this girl was yet another one of Jane’s devotees. She probably wanted some personal information or something that Sylvie had absolutely no intention of giving.

“Oh, I meant she is lucky to have such a lovely and obviously capable human at her side.”

“Wow. Um. Okay,” Sylvie played with the ends of her hair and blushed furiously. This was not what she’d expected.

“I’m Greta. Any chance you’re free for drinks after this thing wraps up? Or dinner? I’d love to show you around Phoenix.”

“Greta? Greta. Thank you so much for the invitation. I am not free. We are actually heading out super early tomorrow, and have some meetings and prep, so. . . Thanks though.” Sylvie shrugged and tried to look gracious and not as though she were trying to contain peals of giddy laughter.

Later, at the hotel bar, they discussed the day and decompressed over cool, white wine. They’d often taken to having dinner in one of their rooms at the end of the day, so they could be casual with one another. Being at any of the local restaurants, or even at the hotel bar meant that any acts of physical intimacy could be seen and interpreted by people who may have been familiar with Jane’s work, or might have even attended her presentation. While Sylvie and Jane didn’t explicitly discuss this arrangement, there was an unspoken understanding between them. But every once in a while, it was nice to get out of their rooms, and at this particular bar, there was a pianist Jane declared “interesting” performing during the pre dinner hours. So, they found themselves enjoying a few glasses of wine and diverse tapas.

“Syl?” Jane’s knee pressed against hers beneath the bar. “Who was that woman you were talking to at my signing?”

“What?” Sylvie took a sip of her wine, but could barely swallow it for her giggles.

“Yes. A very pretty woman was talking to you, and touching you.”

“Oh my god, Jane. Seriously?”

“Mmmmh, yes. See? You’re blushing, Little One,” Jane quickly put a finger on Sylvie’s cheek. “So pink,” she said and placed her hand back on her lap.

“Okay, she was not touching me. We shook hands. And if you must know, she asked me out for dinner and to show me around Phoenix.” Sylvie rolled her eyes, but then tried to gage Jane’s reaction. Jane regarded her with a curious expression, as if waiting for further elucidation. “Obviously I said no and that was that.”

Jane slowly and deliberately took a sip of wine. Sylvie watched Jane’s long fingers caress the stem of the glass. Sylvie’s entire body practically vibrated with need to reach out and touch Jane. She would have grabbed her and taken her right there up against the bar, rough and fast. Or better yet, she could kneel between her legs and feast on her beautiful, delicious pussy for hours. Yes, that’s what she wanted. It was torturous to sit there and not be able to touch and kiss and do all the things she wanted. All the things she _needed_.

“Did you want to say no?” Jane asked. Sylvie realized her gaze had drifted down to Jane’s waist and when she lifted her eyes back up to her face, she saw an expression of concerned confusion.

“Jane,” Sylvie gasped. “I would _never_ have said yes.”

“But did you want to?”

“No! It never crossed my mind. I was standing there staring at you, and thinking about how fucking sexy you are and how much I love your hands.” Sylvie started to reach for Jane’s hand and then remembering they were not in private, she quickly drew back.

“I’d understand if you did want to go out with someone young and gorgeous, Syl,” Jane said soberly. “I wouldn’t like it, but I’d understand it.”

“Fuck that,” Sylvie scoffed.

“I’m serious, Syl. At some point, this thing is going to have its limits, right? And then what? We can’t even hold hands out in a bar together.”

“Then let’s go up to the room and we can do whatever we want,” Sylvie sighed. “I don’t want to talk about that other stuff. I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Sweetness, I don’t ever want you to look back and feel like you missed an opportunity, or to think that our situation was unfair in any way for you.” Jane’s eyes were soft, but sad. Sylvie realized the pain something soft could inflict and it was terrible. She hopped off her barstool and stood before Jane.

“Look, neither of us have crystal balls. We can’t tell the future. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that when I look back on this time from any other point and any other place in my life, I will only feel and think how unbelievably lucky I have been to be with the woman I love. That’s it.” She picked up her wine and finished it off in one gulp.

“Syl,” Jane started, but Sylvie shushed her.

“I’m done having this conversation, Jane,” Sylvie said. She cleared her throat and smiled brightly. Leaning close to Jane’s ear, she lowered her voice and said, “And I really want to do things to you right now, like _urgently right now_ , that I can’t do in public. So if you could please meet me in your room that would be great.” The expression on Jane’s face had shifted from morose and serious to aroused and amused. With a swelling sense of satisfaction, Sylvie made her way to the elevators, knowing she’d be followed closely after.


	26. Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is deffo rated E and NSFW...

Jane had already opened the curtains in her suite, so by the time Sylvie actually woke, morning bathed the room. She watched Sylvie rub her eyes and wake herself slowly to acclimate to the light. Her dark hair matted in places, frizzed in others, and spread out over the stark white pillow in swirls. Jane waited patiently for the little twitch of Sylvie’s lips into a smile as she no doubt remembered the previous night’s exertions and anticipated the promise of more. _Sneaky girl,_ Jane thought and had to suppress a laugh of her own, had to practically sit on her own fingers to keep them from plunging under the twisted covers into her lover’s body.

“You up working already?” Sylvie’s asked, her voice raspy with sleep.

“Not really,” Jane answered softly. She had her laptop next to her in the bed and a notebook and pen in her hands, but really she was watching Sylvie sleep, waiting for the Aegean Sea sparkle of her eyes when they opened.

Jane had never been one to sleep in the nude. Maybe it was her proper Connecticut upbringing, but there always seemed to be a certain vulgarity and vulnerability to it she couldn’t tolerate. But since sharing her bed with Sylvie, she found herself unable to bear even a single layer of silk between her and the younger woman’s skin. She sat in bed now, comfortably naked, covered only to her waist with the sheets as she’d pretended to work while in reality she watched Sylvie’s eyelids flutter in a dream.

Sylvie arched her back in a stretch and reached to touch Jane’s shoulder, her arm. As her fingers grazed down Jane’s body, they ghosted the side of Jane’s breast and Jane’s eyes rolled back in her head as she shivered. “What are you doing then, Baby?” Sylvie inquired with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“If you must know,” Jane replied archly. “I was watching you sleep.”

“Oh?’

“Mmh,” Jane put her notebook and pen on top of the laptop and put the pile of work things on the bedside table. Scooching down onto the pillows, she turned her full attention to Sylvie. She smoothed the hair off her face and kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips.

“No fair,” Sylvie groaned. “You’ve brushed your teeth. You taste all minty and sweet and I must taste gross.”

“Not a chance,” Jane slid her hand down Sylvie’s waist to the crest of her hip and rocked her toward her body, slipped her leg in between Sylvie’s.

“I have to pee,” Sylvie chuckled. “Do not move an inch! Promise!” She raced off to the bathroom and was back in a couple moments during which time Jane realized she was shamefully wet, dripping with want like a teenager. She wondered when it happened, but didn’t have time to wonder for long because Sylvie quickly resumed their position and found her lips for a full kiss. “Minty fresh now too,” she whispered onto Jane’s lips.

“Nice. But for the record, I still love you with morning breath,” Jane panted softly as they started moving with one another, stirring up the unavoidable heat.

“Oh yeah?” Sylvie asked as she slurped one of Jane’s nipples into her mouth and sucked it vigorously. Jane couldn’t answer for the fit of passion that quickly blurred her brain. When it passed she pushed Sylvie onto her back and slid on top of her.

“Syl,” she whispered, keeping her body close to Sylvie’s, her mouth next to Sylvie’s ear. “That thing you did to me last night? Can I try it for you?”

Sylvie pushed her away so she could look in her eyes. Jane bit her lower lip and blushed shyly, but Sylvie grinned and nodded and was already adjusting her hips and spreading her legs so Jane could straddle one of her thighs and find an angle at which their pussies could meet and brush together. The sensation of their labia meeting was exquisitely thrilling. Jane played, teased slowly for a few moments. She artfully managed to skim Sylvie’s clit with the edge of one of her lips and when she felt Sylvie shiver, she did it again, and again until Sylvie moaned and begged for more and harder. Happy to oblige, Jane readjusted her angle and found another spot that made Sylvie sing as she worked her hips and moved their wet mounds together.

In this position, Jane’s breasts passed easily over Sylvie’s, which Sylvie clearly enjoyed. She clutched Jane’s face and kissed her as their rhythm became faster and their bodies held more tightly together. They undulated like they were one solitary, living creature until Sylvie was gasping, swearing, digging her fingers into the tender flesh of Jane’s ass and coming hard directly on Jane’s pussy.

Jane held her after and kissed her neck and shoulder. “That was,” Sylvie started, but found she was still too breathless to speak. “Did you finish?”

“No,” Jane answered truthfully. “But it’s fine. I’m probably still recovering from last night, which was pretty intense, if you remember.”

“Oh, I remember, Baby,” Sylvie said and pushed Jane onto her back. She lovingly began kissing her way down Jane’s body. “But we are not leaving this room until you come for me this morning, okay?”

“Oh, God, Syl, no,” Jane said, suddenly self conscious. She’d managed to avoid oral activities below the belt so far and so far Sylvie had not pressed anything which which Jane hadn’t seemed entirely comfortable. “I don’t need it. It’s fine. You don’t have to do that, really.”

“Shhh,” Sylvie hushed her and gently pushed her thighs apart to make room for her to climb in between them.

“Well at least let me shower first?” Jane asked desperately.

Sylvie had already busied herself kissing Jane’s inner thighs and stroking her fingers lightly through Jane’s damp folds. “Nah. I want to taste myself on your lips. And I want to taste you, Jane. Please?” As she said this last word, she licked lovingly over Jane’s engorged clit. The overly sensitive area interpreted this lovely lick as both soothing and erotic and Jane went completely limp against the pillows.

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“That’s my girl,” Sylvie muttered and gave her another almost delicate lick while she relaxed Jane’s thighs with slow, firm strokes. Jane had gotten herself so worked up pleasuring Sylvie, she needed to be seduced back down a bit, and apparently Sylvie knew just how to do this with her languid tongue and lazy lips. For a while, Jane lost herself in the almost hypnotic lapping between her legs, but somehow her fear crept back in and she became concerned she was taking too long.

“Syl, I don’t think I can,” she murmured.

“Will you relax?” Sylvie chuckled and worked her tongue around Jane’s clit like she was swirling around an ice cream. “I’ll stay here all day if I have to,” Sylvie moaned and to Jane, she sounded completely content, maybe even aroused again. The idea was enough for Jane to allow her mind to float away on the currents of heat Sylvie was stoking, to lose herself as spirals of heavy, buzzing passion built until Jane clutched fistfuls of the sheets and cried out. She had no idea how long it took to get there, and she lost all concept of time while she burst like ripe summer fruit against Sylvie’s magnificent mouth. After a while, Sylvie looked up at Jane with the sweetest, dazed expression and asked, “More?” Jane shook her head and laughed.

They didn’t have much time after that for cuddling, but they showered together and prepared side by side in the enormous bathroom of Jane’s suite.

“Did you, um, enjoy doing that?” Jane asked quietly while pretending to be completely otherwise engrossed in applying her mascara.

“Enjoy it? Are you fucking kidding me?” Sylvie scoffed. For a split second Jane’s heart sank, but Sylvie turned to her and waited for her to put down the tube of makeup. When Jane turned and gave her full attention, Sylvie said, “I will remember that as one of the most beautiful experiences of my life until my dying day, Jane.”

“Thank you,” Jane said and found herself close to tears. To break the tension, she joked, “Don’t forget to brush your teeth again.”

“Hah, no. I want to taste you all day. Or at least until after breakfast. I’m sort of sentimental that way,” Sylvie shrugged and Jane laughed. She stood behind Sylvie and wrapped her arms around her waist. Sylvie looked pretty and neat and professional in a pale blue blouse and dark gray pencil skirt. Her hair was tied back and Jane kissed the beautiful, pale neck left exposed. “You still love me with morning breath. You still gonna love me with _you_ on my breath?” Sylvie turned her head to catch Jane’s lips in a kiss.

“Completely,” Jane sighed. “You are so easy to love, Syl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii... so I know it's been a while and I'm sorry. I missed all of you!!! And I missed writing for these two lovesick derps that I've really grown to love. I've been working to finish my other mammoth WIP and have also been doing all the regular "LIFE" things, so you know how it is... Anyway, I hope everyone is doing okay, and please feel free to check in and say hi in the comments. If you want to let me know how you liked the chapter that is cool, but if you just want to say hi and connect that is also wonderful. Many warm hugs to you all. xoxoxo.


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